#been busy with classes and i’ve found time to drawing this gal

[clownzt0wn]

just an elwurd doodle!

[shewritestheblues]

Old Thing Back (2)

Erik Killmonger x Reader

Erik runs into his old high school girlfriend and realizes how much love he still has for her.

Please Note: In this series, there was never a fight for the thrown between Erik and T’Challa. It’s all good between them. Erik became a Seal and used his pull to go to Wakanda in the hopes of just finding his family. Together, he and T’Challa founded the Wakandan Outreach Center in Oakland.

Thanks for the feedback and love. :) excuse any mistakes. enjoy.

---------

It had been weeks since you ran into Erik… or since he literally ran into you. Good thing you only went running on the weekends. That made it easier to avoid him if you spotted him again. But luckily, you didn’t. You purposely waited until about 9am to go running and you were sure that was why. If he was an early bird, he wouldn’t catch you.

The weekend at come to an end and you were successful yet again at not being run over by your past. You were ready to get back to work to be with your favorite mini humans. You had been a kindergarten teacher for five years and each year, you’d fall in love with your tribe of five year olds like they were your own. This year, your God Daughter, Bella was one of your students. You wouldn’t let Kelly enroll her into any other school. You practically demanded that little Bella be your student. 

You had just picked up your daily Chai Tea Latte from the cafe near Kelly’s house and you were arriving at her home to pick Bella up for school. You were running behind. Your class would be taking a field trip today and you took it upon yourself to make lunches for each student.

As you pulled into Kelly’s driveway, she was rushing out the door with Bella, running late herself. She was called into work early this morning.

“Thank you so much for picking her up, girl. I needed this morning shift.” Kelly says, strapping Bella into her carseat.

“Not a problem. Bella is my baby too.” You smile at the toddler. “Ain’t that right baby girl?”

“Yes.” Bella was all smiles.

“Alright.” Kelly sighed. “You will be a good girl today on your trip.”

“I will, mommy.”

Kelly kisses Bella and closes her door. She waves at you and you pull off, going to school.

When you get there, the bus taking your class on their first ever field trip was there waiting. You get Bella and the lunches out of the car and rush over to find your other students and your teaching assistant, Liza getting settled. You do a headcount to make sure everyone is there before the bus heads to its destination.

“I’ve heard so much about this place and what they’ve done over the summer for kids.” your TA states.

“Hmm?” You were zoned out, enjoying your morning drink.

“The Outreach Center.”

“Oh yeah. Me too. When I heard they were opening this Early Child Development Studio, I knew I had to bring our babies to see what it’s about.”

“I wonder if the King of Wakanda will be there today.” Liza sticks her tongue out making you laugh.

“He is fine ain’t he?” you smirk. “I would not mind becoming a Queen for him.”

“Miss Y/N? Are we there yet?” a small voice from behind you asks you. It’s Tyler. He’s one of your busy body students. He doesn’t like sitting in one spot for too long and is always asking a lot of questions.

You smile at him. “Almost Tyler.” You stretch your neck over the driver's seat to get a good look at the road. “We’re a few blocks away.”

And in just a few minutes, the bus turns into a parking lot next to the building. Glowing blue letters sitting above large, glass doors reading, Wakandan Outreach Center.

“Okay boys and girls. We’re here. Is everyone listening?”

“Yes!” they all answer you.

“Great. We're going to be good guests here. We will stay in line and stay together. Today will be a very fun day. If any of you have to use the restroom, come to me or Miss. Liza and we will find the nearest restroom. Are you guys ready?”

“Yes, Miss. Y/N.”

One by one, the kids jumped off the bottom step of the bus. They made a single file line and followed you into the building with Liza behind them, carrying the lunches. You were met with a beautiful, tall woman in red. Her smile was as bright as the sun. Her presence was breathtaking and even the kids noticed her. You and them were in awe of this gorgeous woman.

“Hello, I’m Mia. You must be the kindergarten class that’s supposed to visit the new Studio today?”

“Yes.” you excitedly shake her hand. Which was amazingly smooth and warm. “I’m Y/N. This is Liza and these are our shining stars.” You turn to your students. “Class 104, this Mia.”

“Hi Mia.” their tiny voices rung out, echoing through the lobby.

“Hello Class 104. Nice to meet you all.” Mia turns to you again. “We’re excited to have you today. Unfortunately, our tour guide, Sasha won't be in today but our Director of Youth Development is here and he’s offered to show you guys around today.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Who is--”

Mia looks to her left. “Here he is now. Mr. Stevens.”

Her words shocked you like lightening. But the person she referred to as Mr. Stevens, made your heart sink into the pit of your belly.

“Good Morning.” his deep voice boomed in your ears. The smile on his face was just as bright as Mia’s. He reaches out to take the box of lunches from Liza. “Could you take this to the cafeteria, Mia?”

You took a few deep breaths, calming your nerves. How is this happening? Why is this happening? You look to Liza who is gazing at him. He reaches his hand out to Liza.

“Good morning. I’m Erik.”

She shakes his hand and her bright cheeks begin turning red. “Um, hi. I’m Liza.”

Erik turns to you with a smirk and his hand out. “Y/N.” he states your name so matter factly.

“Hi, Erik.”

Liza looks confused now. How did you two know each other? She thought.

The smile on Erik’s face was contagious and you couldn’t help but to smile too. Your cheeks going against you. Allegedly. You playfully roll your eyes and avoid meeting his eyes. Your eyes meet with one of your students, Jonathan. He bounces his little brows up at you and winks. You bite back the laughter that threatens to come out.

“Class 104, this is…” You turn back to Erik. “Do you prefer Mr. Erik or Mr. Stevens?”

Erik drags his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes trained on you. He's aware of your struggles. “Mr. Erik is fine.”

“Class… Mr. Erik.”

“Hi, Mr. Erik.” your class sings in unison.

“He’s going to be showing us around today. Are you guys and gals excited?”

“Yes!” the cheery five year olds jump and clap.

A small girl from the back of the group makes her way to the front. She introduces herself to Erik.

“Hi, Mr. Erik. I’m Melody. I’m the line leader, so you can just show me where to go and I’ll take it from here.”

She places her small hand into Erik, shocking him. He didn’t know five year olds could be so damn bold. But he smiled at her and decided he’d go along with it. He gives you a knowing look. You shake your head and look over to Liza, who is trying everything in her to hold back her laugh.

Melody snaps at her class. “Get in line. Me and Mr. Erik will lead the way.” Her class follows her demanding instructions. Erik begins walking with Melody down a large hallway. You watch in disbelief at how your young student took charge as the line began walking away from you. You and Liza catch eyes again and this time, snickers escape from the both of you.

“I can’t lie,” Liza began, “Melody has game. I respect it. She just took your man right under your nose.”

“My what!” your words coming out a bit louder than expected. You see Erik peak behind him to you and Liza. The two of you were trailing the line of jumping kids.

Liza cuts her eyes at you. “You can play stupid with these babies but you can’t play stupid with me Y/N. I peeped how y’all were looking at each other. All cheesy and shit.” Liza swayed her body adding emphasis on her words.

“That’s a bad word, Miss Liza.” Tyler barked.

“My apologies, Tyler.”

You and Liza bite back more laughter.

-----------------------

Erik leads the class to two large doors with glowing blue lights and Wakandan symbols engraved on them. Early Childhood Development Studio. When Erik opened the doors, it was like a kindergarten teacher's dream classroom. It was neat with a modern decor style but still colorful to draw in a child's attention. The ceiling mimicked a dome with animated visuals playing on the tiles. Rows of white tables with small stability ball chairs. Each table paired with a collection of Crayola Crayons, Markers, Pencils and Erasers. In front of each seat, sat an iPad full of learning apps. To the right of the room, there’s a dry erase board and learning posters. To the left, shelves and shelves of children's books, neatly placed toys--Including a play kitchen, salon, tool boxes. There was an open space covered with a mat that would glow with the same blue color that was on the entry doors.

You and Liza were intrigued to say the least. Your students were in aw as well and being very vocal about it. Erik was pleased to see everyone approving of his design.

“As you can see here,” Erik began explaining, “each student would have their own iPad to stay up to date with the new learning apps that we are developing. We have plenty of utensils here for drawing and expression. The dome is designed for the children to gain an understanding of how the sky and the galaxy works.” he takes a step back to grab an iPad. He taps a few buttons and suddenly the room is darkened and stars and planets paint the ceiling. It’s so realistic that even you, for a second, thought that you were just casted into space. The children voiced their ohs and aws.

“Wow.” you mouthed, looking around you watching a meteorite pass by you.

Erik taps the iPad again and the ceiling goes back to normal. He walks over to the glowing mat, tapping on it and holographic visuals of a young woman with braids pop up. She jumps with joy.

“Hey Shuri, meet Class 104.”

“Hello class.” Shuri waves. The students are bouncing with excitement and wave back to Shuri.

“We have an experiment set up for you.” He tells the class. “Are you ready?”

“YES!” their screams bounce off the walls.

“They’re ready, Shuri.”

“Alright you little geniuses. Have you ever seen a volcano erupt?” Shuri asks as she walks over to a table.

You and Liza are completely mute. You couldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing. Is this real? Like live footage?

Shuri pours a liquid into the top of the volcano and it explodes a lava colored foam.

“Oh my gosh!” one kid yells out.

“My mama won’t believe this.” another says.

Erik laughs at the joyful reactions.

“There’s more where that came from when you guys come and see me later.” Shuri smiles.

“Thanks Shuri. I’ll let you know when we’re ready to come down.” Erik says.

She gives him a thumbs up and Erik taps the mat again and the hologram disappears.

“Erik!” you were stunned. “That was live?”

“Yes. We use holograms to do most of our communication. The mat is designed with vibranium, so it can’t be destroyed and we can use it for science experiments, communication, building blocks… I could go on but I’d rather show you over time.”

“Wow. This is perfect. More kids that come here and we’ll have hella little scientists running around Oakland.” Liza says.

“Why don’t we get them started.” Erik leads the children to the tables. Each of them picking a seat and tapping on the iPads. Erik gets each of them set up with a different app to explore their little brains.

You and Liza help with the set up and before you knew it, each student was in their own little world learning and actually enjoying it. You and Liza were probably enjoying the Studio more than the children.

------------

To reward your shining stars for being the amazing little learners they were, you and Liza figured that they should have some play time. This would be good for them to use up the rest of their energy before lunch, as well as give you and Liza a break.

As the children played with all of the high tech toys, Liza couldn’t help but to notice the set of eyes trained on you. She hid a knowing smile behind her water bottle as she pretended to take a sip and pretending even harder at listening to whatever you were talking about.

“Mhmm.” is all Liza offered to you.

Liza always has commentary to whatever topic you were babbling about so the lack there of caught your attention.

“Liza, are you listening to me?” you snapped with a bit of attitude.

Her eyes meet yours. “I’m not understanding how you are able to listen to you right now.”

“Excuse me?”

Liza scrunches her nose up. “You don’t sense the demon eyes glaring at you from across the room? Melody may have Mr. Erik,” she adds emphasis to his name, “wrapped around her little finger, but that man has been hawking you since we got here.”

You scoff. “No he hasn’t.” You look up and lock eyes with Erik. He’s sitting on the floor with Melody playing in his dreads like she’s his hairstylist. Just before you could react, Bella approaches you.

“God Mommy… I’m hungry.” she whines.

Saved by the Bella.

You look at your Apple Watch noticing that it’s just passed 11a.m. Lunch Time!

“Okay, baby girl. It’s lunch time anyways.”

Bella waste no time turning back to her fellow classmates and yells, “IT’S LUNCH TIME!”

The children go up on roars. It was adorable how thrilled they were about food. That’s something you could relate to on a soul level. The students line up with joy in their eyes. Erik walks toward you and Liza. Your heart begins picking up its pace.

“Hey. So, I figured we could squeeze some time in to visit our labs after lunch before y’all have to go. That’s cool?” he asked mainly you.

You simply nodded your head. You snapped your neck at Liza when you heard her snickering. Of course Erik noticed and he gave you a very toothy smile. His dimples were on full display and you did the only thing you thought you could… run!

“Alright 104,” you step around Erik and Liza. “Mr. Erik here is going to take us to the cafeteria.”

Bella takes your hand into hers. She looks up at Erik. “Hurry Mr. Erik. I’m dying.”

“Let’s go.” he leads you, Liza and the class to the enormace cafeteria. You were impressed. It was like a mini airport in there. Multiple food options. You immediately set your mind on Stir Fry. Liza’s eyes were glued to the pizza.

Mia met all of you with the class’s lunches. As the children got settled in their seats. you and Liza handed out each lunch and watched as they dug in. You and Liza sat at the end of the table to keep a good eye on the kids. As you began eating your food, a large presence approached behind you. You hear a clearing of a throat. You look up and see Erik with sly smirk painted on his lips. His hands were behind his back.

“Do you ladies mind if I join you?” he asks.

“Nope. Y/N doesn’t mind at all if you join her.” she winks at you. She doesn’t care that you were shooting daggers at her. “My baby-loves need me anyway.”

She rises from her seat next to you and she joins the class. Erik takes ownshipship of her chair.

“I have something for you.” In his hands held a box of brand new AirPods.

“Erik… You really didn’t have to do that.”

Ignoring your protest. “I was expecting to give them to you weeks ago but I guess I scared you away from the park.”

The disappointment in his eyes made you feel bad. “Thank you…”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

“No--No. It’s just… you have to admit, it was kinda weird. Ya’ know, with the way things were the last time we saw each other.” You found the courage to look in his eyes again. Guilt. Regret. “You were the last person I thought I’d see. A lot of feelings that I thought were dead, surfaced and I--.”

“I understand.” he bit the side of his cheek. He felt the awkwardness between you two when he ran into you. He couldn’t deny it if he wanted to.

“But, the universe has a funny way of doing things.” you added.

“Yeah… I’ve always lived with that regret though. I wish I would’ve said something. Ran after you. I don’t know.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Where did you go?” you finally spoke up.

“College... Naval Academy and MIT.”

“Damn, Erik. I knew you were smart but I didn’t know you were that smart to just go to college at 16.”

A low chuckle escapes his mouth. “Yeah, “he continued, “When I became a SEAL, I got curious. I knew I had family in Africa so I decided to go find them. When I got to the Wakanda… they uh, they accepted me with open arms. My uncle--”

“Wait, wait.” you interjected. “You’re Wakandan?”

“Yeah.” a sly smile crept onto his face.  “T’Challa is my cousin.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

Your shock took over you. You had forgotten where you were and who you were with.

“Ohhhh, Ms. Y/N. That’s a bad word.” one of your students yelled out, bringing you back to reality.

You slap your hand over your mouth. “I am so sorry. I will not say it again. I promise.”

“You have to go in the time out chair, Ms. Y/N.”

You felt foolish for not keeping it together in front of your students. “I’m sorry guys, okay? Forgive me.”

Bella approached you. “I forgive you God Mommy.”

You rub her big puff on top of her head. “Thank You, Bella.”

“God Mommy?” Erik looks between the two of you.

“Yes. This is my GodDaughter who is also my student. This is Kelly’s daughter.”

“Kelly! Big mouth Kelly?”

“My mommy doesn’t have a big mouth.” Bella gathered Erik very nicely.

Erik throws his hands up in surrender. “My bad Miss Bella. She doesn't. I’m sorry.”

You send Bella back to sit with her class. You and Erik play catch up until lunch time was over. He took all of you to Shuri’s lab. Shuri showed the kids some of her gadgets. Before you knew it, it was time for you to load your class up on the school bus and take them back to school for them to be released to their parents. Strangely, you weren’t ready for the trip to be over. You internally told yourself that it wasn’t because of Erik but Liza made sure to constantly remind you that Erik was definitely the reason. You felt butterflies every time your eyes met his. It was like no time had been missed between you two. Yes, there was still an elephant in the room between you but this felt nice and if you had to be honest, that could wait. You liked the way he was making you feel.

You were doing your head count when Erik made his presence known just outside of the buses doors. You kindly asked Liza to make sure all of your students were counted for and you stepped off to talk to Erik… again.

He laid down a fly away from your bun. That took you by surprise.

“It was nice seeing you, Y/N. For real this time.”

“Same. I’m glad we were able to talk and things not be, ya’ know, weird.”

They exchange smiles before Erik spoke again.

“I know I’m shooting for the moon right now but I don’t want to miss this moment.”

You waited for him to continue.

“But um, I would like to link up with you again. Minus the work and students.”

He immediately noticed the look of uncertainty forming over your features. He was definitely shooting for the moon, you thought.

“I don’t know, Erik.”

“Hear me out. It’ll be just two old friends catching up and plus… I want to formally apologize for some things.” He slipped a folded piece of paper into your hands, making sure to allow his fingers to linger over yours. He looked you dead in the eye. “You don’t have to figure it out now. Just promise me that you’ll at least think about it, okay?”

A nod was all that you could produce as a reply.

He leaves you with a wink.

When you joined your class on the bus, Liza made kissy faces at you. You blew her off. Unfolding the paper revealed Erik’s phone number. You would think about it. It was the least you could do.

---------

You were arriving at Kelly’s to drop your God daughter off to her. Bella was great on her first field trip and you wanted to tell Kelly all about her growing little genius.

You relaxed back onto her couch, cuddling up with Bella. Kelly joined you two, thrilled to hear about their adventure. You went on and on about the Children’s studio, the amazing food and science labs. Kelly loved the futuristic things you were telling her. She wanted so badly to take a personal trip to the Outreach Center just for herself. She was a science lover and that was right up her alley.

“Oh my goodness, Bella baby. It sounds like you had so much fun today.” Kelly doted on her young daughter.

“I did, mommy. I even got to meet God Mommy’s boyfriend.”

Your head snapped to look at Bella like she had six heads.

“Her what!”

“Yeah. Mr. Erik.”

“Bella!”

“Mr. Erik huh?” Kelly looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Tell me more Bella.”

“He was nice. He let me and Melody do his hair. He took us all around and showed us a volcano.”

“That’s nice baby, but tell me. How do you know Mr. Erik is God Mommy’s boyfriend?”

“You’re going to listen to a five year old, Kelly?” you question.

“Hush up! Let the child talk.”

“Well,” Bella throws her hands up. “They were looking at each other like this.” She dramatically blinks her eyes and smiles really big.

You cover your face with your hands. You couldn’t believe your god daughter was throwing you under the bus like this. It really be your own people.

“Bella, why don’t you go change out of your school clothes and let me God Mommy talk.”

Bella runs upstairs to her room. You peak between your fingers to see if Kelly was looking at you. Of course she was with a devious smirk, waiting for you to spill the tea.

“Spill it bitch and don’t leave nothing out.”

You sit still in the hopes that you’ll disappear and she won’t press the issue anymore. But no luck. You were still very visible and your best friend was extremely patient. You pull yourself up on the couch.

“Fuck it. There’s no way out of this.” you say to yourself. “Mr. Erik is Erik Stevens.”

Kelly’s eyes damn near pops out of her head. “Erik fucking Stevens? You are lying to me.”

[rioniarts]

welp, gang! not only another year is coming to an end, but it also marks the end of a decade. i’ve been drawing for over 10 years now, so i figured i should do a decade of art just to show off my work over the years!

if you want to read my retrospect of each year, it’ll be under the read more! heads up, it is a bit of a doozy.

TL;DR: just all around happy with how much i improved over the years and i can’t wait to see what 2020 will bring!

2009 (11-12 yrs old)      at this point, I’m on my second year of drawing (both traditionally and digitally!) This year mainly consisted of either oc art or drawings of my best friends at the time, but there was some fanarts sprinkled here and there. I also did my first animation piece around this time too tho it’s private now :3c i may show it off one day...

2010 (12-13 yrs old)     I got my first drawing tablet for Christmas 2009 and this is when i went ham on my digital drawings. this year was kinda weird i guess? i started experimenting a more cartoony style on some artworks, though the majority are still anime inspired.

2011 (13-14 yrs old)     ah yes...... the year i found out about homestuck.... well, i found out about it on the second half of the year. the first half was all about my ocs. this was because around this time (or late 2010? i dont remember exactly) i discovered flipnote hatena, where I did tons of animations including my ocs. but once i discovered homestuck, that was all i posted for a while lol. this was also the year I made my tumblr account. oh and I also lost my tablet pen for a few months so some of the drawings from this year were made with a mouse.

2012 (14-15 yrs old)     I started falling out of deviantArt and became more active on tumblr. I mellowed out on the homestuck drawings a bit and posted other stuff. this year was kinda similar to 2010, where my artstyle was kinda all over the place. the second half of the year I discovered a super obscure browser dating sim called Star Project and became a part of the roleplaying community so plenty of my artworks revolved on my muse Souta and the game as a whole. 2013 (15-16 yrs old)     this year was really quiet in terms me posting art. i had been constantly doodling both traditionally and digitally but I never got around to posting the majority of them. this was mainly because I was so busy with school. on the flipside however, I discovered Earthbound and i hecking fell in love with it ♥

2014 (16-17 yrs old)     still relatively quiet but i posted more than 2013 lol. Earthbound drawings galore! i also did posted more oc work, including my gal Usako. I haven’t posted her anywhere in a long time though. i have been redesigning her and i’ll show it off sometime in the future!

2015 (17-18 yrs old)     ahh, here we go! now we’re picking up the pace! i graduated from high school this year and started posting more often. splatoon came out this year and I was constantly drawing them squidkiddies! (tho tbh my rin and len drawing is my fav) this was also the year I got Manga Studio (an older version of Clip Studio Paint) but I still used Paint Tool Sai. this was also the first year i did commissions!

2016 (18-19 yrs old)     this year was really interesting tbh. lots of really neat works and i started to do more backgrounds. this was also the year I (attempted) to do my webcomic! i haven’t updated that thing in a long time tho. I want to reboot it one of these days. but anyways, good mix of fanart and oc works. really, this year was great.

2017 (19-20 yrs old)     this was the year i made this very art blog and my instagram account! (which i haven’t advertised here at all but here’s the link lol) i think it was around this point i found my own artstyle that i want to more or less stick to! of course, it was going to change overtime, but compared to the years prior, my artstyle at this point has been more consistent. this was also the year i attempted to start an oc askblog with a friend of mine but it haven’t gone far ;w; def want to try again one of these days!

2018 (20-21 yrs old)     this year was also really nice! i moved to a new university to get a major in animation. quite a few persona 5 and kingdom hearts drawings here and there since i was like love with both of those games (even tho kh3 wasn’t even out at that point, but i was still hyped omg) i also introduced Cimmaria and Nicktornal for a future story that i’m currently developing! i also made a full move to Clip Studio Paint after Paint Tool Sai wouldn’t load on my new computer.

2019 (21-22 yrs old)    last year of the decade and i left it with quite a bang! I def posted more often. i did missed a few months, but then i would come back with a bunch more works to post! I discovered Artfight from a friend so that kept me busy during the month of july! made a couple more animations too since of course i will be doing more of it for university. 

So, what’s my 2020 art resolution?

Def want to keep posting! try to go for at least 4 artworks per month, one for each week.

experiment more on backgrounds, perspective and composition!

post more oc artworks! i haven’t been posting much about them for the past few years but I really want to change that. there is one oc i am definitely introducing to you all! here’s a hint: it is a Dungeons and Dragons character. I will show them off when the time is right uwu

continue developing on story ideas and sticking to it! i’ve noticed that i usually start on projects only then to drop them later on. I really want to revive them and work on it!

continue working on animation! if all goes well, i’ll be taking animation classes in fall of 2020 so i need to start prepping more!

and of course, continue improving my art!

that’s all i have in mind! if you got this far, thank you guys so much for reading this wall of text lol. I promise that will do as much as I can to fulfill these resolutions! onwards to 2020 and beyond!!

[miss-m-winks]

Instead of a summary of my art from each month of 2019 I’ve compiled a summary of my art from every year of this decade! Finding some of that old art was incredibly difficult.

And making an exact image description of all this would be too long to write or read so I’m going to do my best to describe all this in a concise and interesting way.

2010: I was a sophomore in high school, so about 15 years old. These two drawings are in pencil and colored pencil, one of some random girl character wearing brightly colored clothes and a rainbow shawl thing (??) walking on clouds it seems. No idea what that was meant to be about. The other is a reference for my old oc, the very first one I ever had, based on myself. She looks human but with unicorn ears and a horn, plus wings and a tail. I hadn’t figured out animal legs yet either so she has perfectly normal human legs that just end in hooves.

2011: still mostly pencil, colored pencil, I don’t remember if I had a laptop yet. I would have been 16 years old at this time. I picked a self portrait here, a coloreddrawing of myself in black concert dress playing the trumpet because I got to do a solo in jazz band and I was very happy about it. The other art I picked for this year is digital but in the old ms paint program (you know before it tried to be fancy with a few more realistic tools and was only pixel art tools) I do believe I was still using the family computer for this, with a mouse. I was really creative with the tools. It’s my unicorn girl oc again, flying through the sky. I included a progress image, showing how I made it. I’m so glad I saved the steps and posted them it’s really cool to see my old art process for that.

2012: 17 years old, and I think I finally had a laptop with a good art program on it by this time but I still did mostly traditional art, lots of colored pencil work. I found this old experimental art I did that year, a colored pencil drawing of a girl sitting on a tree branch, but the background is all digital, a painting of a fantasy night sky with three moons. It actually looks kinda good, the edges of the colored pencil drawing are crisp and smooth and the digital background doesn’t look out of place. I mean the shading is a bit of a mess and I used white clouds on a black night sky which is a bit funny looking but it isn’t that bad. The other image is a colored pencil drawing that was really ambitious for me at the time. I had this cool idea to draw Death with sunset colored wings, all poetic and stuff. Why did I also draw death with blue skin and horns? I don’t know. Why is death sitting on an ambiguous brown cliff overlooking a cemetery? Well I guess I just was having trouble finding any other way to make a nice background and have death above a cemetery. I should redo this one, it’s a really good concept.

2013: my last year of high school, 18 years old. I was doing digital art a lot more often this year and expanding the diversity of my ocs. One of these images is a digital drawing of two of my first characters of color, two male black elves (black as in African-based) smoochin. My first black oc was also my first queer oc, jayvyn. A gay elf. There are a lot of issues with the way I originally conceptualized his story but even when I was thinking he was the only queer person in his town and there was homophobia towards him (I was only just dipping my toes outside the mindset I grew up in) I gave him a whole massive group of friends (a boys' lacrosse team he was on don’t ask me why lacrosse I have no idea I don’t even know much about lacrosse it was a weird choice) and those friends were extremely loyal and supportive of him, even to the point of going on dates with him just to make him happy. and again, he was the only gay character I had so I was writing a bunch of straight dudes taking their one gay friend on dates in a town full of people who were at least vaguely homophobic, I definitely had a lot of growing to do in my writing and my own mindset but I’m kinda proud of myself for doing that? I could have done so much worse with my first queer oc and my first real step into characters of color, but I made the whole story about this tight knit group of boys who were all such close loving friends. (Gee I wonder if this had anything to do with my being ace and not knowing it yet). Oh yeah, the other image is also there, that one is from a photoshop class I took. We had a three-way folding mirrors the bathroom at the time so I put on a hoodie, turned out the bathroom lights, folded the mirrors in and shoved my face into the gap and then took a photo with the flash while holding my mouth open in a silent scream. The result is this really cool series of screaming faces at different angles, which I then ran through a few filters and major contrast adjustment. Could be an edgy generic horror movie cover lol

2014: 19 years old, and I just finished a year of community college and then left on a church mission for 18 months. I probably should have used some of my first college art class drawings for this year's summary but I was using my old deviantart gallery to collect these old images so I forgot I had all that college art too. These two digital images are pretty dynamic in different ways. Dynamic lighting and dark skin, an experiment I was doing to figure out lighting better for my characters of color. That’s Jayvyn again I think, with lightning shooting out of his hand because I sure love making characters with lightning powers. The other is dynamic in the posing and I’m still incredibly happy with it, it’s a drawing of a grey centaur from behind, bucking in panic because a kitten pounced on its foot. Definitely still one of the best centaur drawings I have ever made.

2015: 20 years old, I was actually on my church mission for this entire year so finding art from that year was very very tricky. One is just a small pencil drawing on another oc, Ronan with his cool mechanical leg playing fiddle I guess? I was doing a lot of synesthesia doodles that year so there are lots of swirly lines coming off the fiddle. I was also surprised to find this really neat digital art I made of Ravio from link between worlds, I almost forgot I did find a way to make digital art on my mission (no access to my laptop, limited apps we were allowed to use, super limited access to normal computers except for emails and such, always busy doing important stuff) I discovered the drawing function in the iPad notes app and every time I had time I would use it until I figured out how to make it work for me, using only my fingers, the limited color palette options, and this marker tool that had one size and only multiplied (except when using white) this is definitely one of the best ones, but I don’t know where the rest went. I had a lot. I was stunned to find this because it really looks like I could have done it on a laptop, can’t believe I forgot I did that.

2016: 21 years old. Had to get used to a laptop again. Also I created my current main oc Morianten during my church mission so here I have the very first full body digital art of him! I’ve definitely changed his anatomy a lot since then, made him much more bird like. Kinda funny to look at this old one and see just how differently I draw him now, only three years later. I also have here a digital painting of some other members of morianten's adoptive family, his dad and little brother having a father son race in nice racing wheelchairs. I still struggle with proportions when I draw characters in wheelchairs.

2017: 22 years old, and back in college. I really had a focus on figure drawing that year, I was back in college art classes and I found posespace.com which is just full of professionally shot art model photos. I’ve got one digital figure drawing of my oc Talib, another practice in lighting on dark skin. The other image is a charcoal drawing of my oc Parva, I think I did that one in a 30 minute time frame where I was taking pictures at different points to show my process but I’ve lost the process images.

2018: 23 years old, and really getting into color depth with my digital art. I found a really old pencil drawing of a dynamic dancing scene and redid it as a digital painting with extreme colored lighting dynamics and new characters. I also got super into mermay so I’ve included one of my favorites, a rainbow trout gal and her elf girlfriend having a chat after a nice swim. I’m super proud of the colors and proportions here, and the shading is pretty great too.

And then it’s 2019! This year! I’m 24! For this one I used three images instead of two, all digital. My ocs Talib and Kouto as persephone and hades in a really quick painting I did but the colors and lighting are intense and fun. No outlines painting of Morianten with some pretty intense lightning lighting. That one took ages and I’m still not entirely pleased with the way I drew his face there but I’m proud of it. And I never actually posted this last one, it’s a new oc created exclusively for the DC superheroes au I dabbled in with @askmissbernadette, a young hero called Lion riding a skateboard in a dark city with a long coat on because that’s a fun way to replace the common superhero cape design.

Overall, it was really fun to go through my art for the entire decade and see how much it’s changed over time. And to see how much my characters have changed. Hope 2020 is a good year, hope the 20s in general are good. Here’s to another 10 years of change and progress!

[judythemoonicorn]

I’m 33 years old. That’s over three decades of being alive on this planet. More than that, I grew up throughout a major technological revolution - which in turn resulted in major world-wide cultural evolution. The internet changed a lot. A lot a lot. More than people even ten years younger than me may realize.

But that’s not me bragging, that’s me marveling at the amount of change I’ve experienced both personally and socially. 30 years ago my neighborhood was primarily white with a peppering of latinos (Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, etc.) I lived (and continue to live) on the edge of the border between the North and South sides of my area (Northside is/was primarily slavic/baltic; Polish in the majority, Russians, and a peppering of others and Southside is/was primarily black and latino).

I didn’t see an Asian person in person until I was past 10 years old. Or at least I don’t remember seeing one before then. The only reason I remember that specific meeting is because I was running a lemonaide stand with a friend and a group of chinese (?) people randomly passed by, asked what we were doing, then laughed at us and walked off.

Anyway.

If you were to come to my neighborhood today things are vastly different. I now see asian people on a daily basis. There are germans, french, italians, indians, koreans, japanese, chinese, taiwanese, and god knows I don’t know all the possible places people have come from. My neighborhood is so diverse and busy now I don’t think my younger self would know where she was.

I emphasize this because, again, back then I wasn’t exposed to a great amount of non-whites. I could probably have counted on my hands how many POC classmates I had throughout gradeschool in my tiny, tiny school (my graduating class was 5 students including me). When I moved areas and went to High School, that school was primarily white (Italian) as well.

It wasn’t until my life went to shit and I moved back to my hometown with my mom and I switched schools (for the 4th time) I ended up in a primarily black/latino high school just a few blocks away from where I lived. Which, I should point out, a black child services woman didn’t want to send me to to begin with and acted like I’d be missing out or something if I went there or that I somehow “deserved better” than that place.

It was the first and only high school I went to where no one bullied me. People were kind and deeply interested in me and my drawings that I’d work on all day. I didn’t make any deep friendships; I found people treated me more like a curiosity all things considered, but people were amicable with me. Even if they weren’t always with each other (a LOT of fights broke out in that school, and it was the first one I’d been to that had students pass through a metal detector every morning).

Then it happened. The day came when a bunch of people were looking through my sketchbook and marveling at my work, and the girl holding the book turned to me and said something along the lines of “you don’t draw black characters?”.

I can’t say exactly what I felt at that time. Kind of shocked, kind of embarrassed. The thought had honestly never once occurred to me. Was I even allowed to do that? I’m ‘white’ after all. There’s a lot I’m not allowed to do, or I’ve always been told I’m not allowed to do, when it comes to POC. My father was/is pretty damn prejudice against just about everybody. I never saw the need to be, but my exposure was also very small to black families and their home and social cultures and the like. How could I, a Polish/Lithuanian girl who at that point in my life had practically no friends or real social relationships and a still blossoming access to the internet, be allowed to draw a black character?

Did I even have the right marker colors? (I only seriously took up digital art after I turned 18, before then I colored with alcohol-based markers like Copic and Prismacolor.)

It felt like a door opening. I was given permission to draw a black character. Someone had asked me why I wasn’t already doing it, and now I felt I had to. I remember very specifically buying a magazine where it had a photoshoot of some kind in it of Beyonce - who I felt and still feel is extremely beautiful. Plus she was the current hotness at the time so she seemed a natural fit for reference. I was studying for the GED at that point in my life, in a small ramshackle classroom where I was one of two total white kids surrounded by mostly latino guys and gals. People constantly asked me why I was there. I used “big words” (I still can’t believe someone said that to me...) and I was “really talented”. Life doesn’t really care what color your skin is.

Anyway, so I picked a picture I liked and went to it. I was nervous. Drawing the actual figure of the character wasn’t the hard part. Coloring her skin was. I didn’t have many brown colored markers, and markers were expensive for a young woman with no income. I’m talking sometimes $5 a marker. Prismacolor was cheaper and easier to get, but the color quality varied. I had tons of light-skinned colors. Only one brown I felt suitable for a black person.

Long story short on that one I created a character I really quite liked, and I was met with approval from my peers as well. It felt good. But I still felt I was missing the grand picture.

What did it mean to be ‘black’? In a physical sense, I mean. If I was meaning to portray the physical then surely it was more than just a skin color. Even I knew back then that I couldn’t just slap a darker skin color on a random face and call it a day. Half the time that’d just be a really tan ‘white’ person. I was so worried about not having the right marker color back then perhaps in part because it would be the only thing that distinguished the character I was creating as black. I was only drawing generic anime faces back then. What made the character read as ‘black’? There had to be more to it.

I think after that I started to take it as an observational fascination. There was a teacher at the GED program who was a tall, lean black man who played in a jazz band as a saxophonist, and I would stare at him the whole lesson (probably a little too much). He was perfect in my eyes for what I was looking for and what I hadn’t been exposed to growing up. The shape of his nose, his cheeks, his eyes, the gloss of his dark skin under lights; the way the palms of his hands were lighter than the rest of his skin struck me as romantic. I wanted to hold them and stare at them and study the lines I could so clearly see compared to my own pale hands. I never had a crush or anything like that despite the way I tell it, it just felt like an epiphany. Here I had someone to actively study. A model. Someone who was a mentor to me and I didn’t have to go through the social hoops of being a family friend or something.

Color was important. Absolutely important. But so was structure, attitude, body language, the shape of the face and the joints of the hands. The whole body had quirks to it that rang him as human just like me, but different unlike me. It’s hard for me to fully put it into words when I’m trying to describe it from a purely artistic sense. In the normal freaking world people are just people. But like I said before; when you want to recreate or portray the physical in a drawing/painting/whatever, there’s a whole other layer to it all. It’s like the real world is a photograph - very exact and to its own point. An illustration needs to capture the soul of a moment and all the elements that come with it.

There is a way to draw a woman that portrays her as a woman. To give hints to her personality and all else that she is. It’s like that. I needed to know what made a POC what they were beyond picking the right shade of red-brown.

And I say all this, I emphasize all this, because oh my god I see so many posts on Tumblr calling out ‘white people’ on their lack of ability to properly color black or brown characters. Or they call out whitewashing, or they call out characters being ‘too ashy’, and the accusations fly because holy shit a white person who’s been white all their life doesn’t know how to draw black people. Can you even believe?

I’ve literally seen images that feature extremely, purposefully washed-out color schemes getting railed against because one of the characters is dark skinned but the wash-out makes them look ‘white’. I remember that time Beyonce did a photo shoot and the lighting and makeup made her look very light-skinned and people called her out for whitewashing herself.

Maybe I don’t understand. I fully admit that. I’m only a simple, not-that-professional artist trying to understand the world. But I do want to believe there’s a lot more to being who you are than how you were born, who you love, or what color your skin is. When I see someone like Beyonce I see Beyonce. I don’t see a black woman. I see a woman who happens to be black. But maybe this, too, is ‘privilege’... And maybe there are things I can accept for the sake of artistic expression without the weight of racism or bigotry weighing on my mind and soul. I have to acknowledge that, too.

I sure mentioned Beyonce a lot. Jeez. Her and Rihanna are like the two most beautiful women in the world in my opinion though. And I often have Naomi Campbell on my mind too because she was a muse for Naoko Takeuchi when doing an illustration of Setsuna/Sailor Pluto. So.

ANYYYYbutt... As a closing thought, I have to wonder how different my thinking would be if I were a young artist today with all this access to resources and tutorials and every color under the sun with digital art. And a lot of people talking down to me about how awful I am as a white person for not knowing how to shade darker skin. There’s a lot of posts like that. Hm. Tumblr is a weird place.

[everyonesawhoregrace]

oH my gOd if you’re doing ships I’m seriously DOWN!! I’m a 5’8, brunette and blue-eyed Norwegian gal who’s strong minded and up for many discussions. I could talk for hours and I live for humour and laughter. I’m creative; I draw, I do music, I write. History is my thing, so is discussing politics. I love nature, the ocean especially. I grew up in the countryside, and that’s where I’ll always stay. Despite being outgoing, I’m insecure, and I enjoy spending my day with only a few people at a time

You are the most innocent thing to ever touch this earth, and his son absolutely adores you. When you first laid eyes on Tommy Shelby, you were very eager to talk to him about his sons polite behaviour in class, and as his teacher, you were also going to inform him on the trouble he’s been having in maths. And you honestly were expecting to see one of Charlie’s maids, not his father! 

So naturally, you were extremely nervous to see a man which so much power enter your small class room. He was intrigued by your beauty, always into women taller than 5′4, he found you sexy. A woman unlike any other. He was grappled by your non-English-self and intrigued by your ocean eyes. He could tell by the way you smiled at him that he you were going to be someone he had to pursue. So, pursue you he did. 

It started off with flowers, and then letters being written, then during Christmas time, you were getting gifts sent to your house before one day he showed up to your flat one Sunday morning. He was baring flowers, looking absolutely breathtaking as you shoved your key into the front door, coming back from a session at church. How could you resist such a man?

So finally, you gave in, because hell, you couldn’t help yourself. It was a quiet dinner at your house that ended up in a heated debate about Birmingham and how industrial its becoming, you hated the fact that you were breathing in soot on a day-to-day basis. But Thomas explained that it was a power move, something about business. “You’re smart,” He said, “But you need to think about the economy.” 

He had a point, after WW1, the economy plummeted. This you knew, and you wanted to tell him that. So, that was the beginning of something special for you two: that’s how it worked with you two, simple conversations always ending up in a heated debate about something. And when it wasn’t, you were two were chuckling away at something, or talking about your lives before meeting each other. You two were good together, even he’s admitted to that. 

And when he would go home, he would tell you after a long kiss, tonight, I’ll be dreaming of you. 

It was always taboo to get into a relationship with one of your students parents, but Tommy assured you that there was nothing he wanted more than you. And Thomas had the ability to make you feel glorious about yourself, something no one else had done before.

This is the first time in a long time that I’ve wanted something so bad. 

And you couldn't help but agree before lacing your fingers with his and allowing him to escort you to his bedroom. Where the two of you came undone for the first time. Now, being with Thomas came with a lot of scrutiny, people would often scowl at you, glaring like you’re the enemy, when in fact, you’re only in love. He knew you loved being closest to mother nature, so he bought you a house by the lake and woods for your birthday, surprising you with it. And you said no, but of course, Thomas refused. Promising the money was from the legal side of his business. 

The one time you two got into a huge argument, you ended up outside feeling the cold air of the winter storm filling your heart as tears raced down your cheeks. No matter how cold it was, it calmed you down. You stood there looking at the snow fall slowly from the sky, as you tried to clear your mind. It was a stupid argument, one where you felt so vulnerable because Thomas had killed a man during an altercation, but what was he to do, kill or be killed right? But before you could even turn back around, a warm blanket fell over your shoulders as he rubbed your arms. 

“Come back inside, love.” He coos, kissing the side of your face. “We can talk more, but just inside.” 

“No.” You whisper, looking at him, “I’m sorry.” Kill or be killed, that’s the love you’ve fallen into. And you need to learn to accept that, because outside of the gangster shit, there is a man you have fallen deeply in love with. “I shouldn’t fight with you over your job.” You lace your fingers around the back of his head, getting on your toes to kiss him lightly. “I love you so much, Tommy.” 

He smiles into your lips, his arms caught around your waist. “There’s no better place than here, Y/N.” 

[style-beat-webzine]

Michelle's Fashion Industry Pros and Cons series: Post #1

How many of you have ever felt personally victimized by the fashion industry?

Haven’t we all, in some way? Isn’t it wild to think that the fashion industry only allows in a small group of people? Like many, I’ve always had a love hate relationship with this industry. My favorite part about fashion is that it’s forever evolving, it changes because we evolve as human beings. Why stay the same when there’s so much to explore, in my opinion. As I sit here on NYE of 2020 I can’t help but to look back on my year, I can truly say that this is the first year that I felt my life had extreme ups and downs. I’m ending the year on a low, but that’s for another time when I have the energy to tell the story, for now let us stick to fashion. 

So the fashion industry, eh? All in all it hates my type, a petite-plus size gal, woohoo thank you, genes!! However, that’s never stopped me from dressing to express myself. In this series I talk about my love hate relationship with fashion, the pros and cons of the industry in my opinion and where I see myself fitting in. Spoiler alert, it’s not anywhere haha, but that’s what makes fashion so great you can mold it to fit you, but for some of us it takes some extra work to find items that work. I’m going to give one positive and one negative-opinionated blurb about the industry and fashion in general. I’ll start with the negative, because we should always leave on a positive note :)

The number one thing I hate about the industry is that it makes me feel like I’m intruding, like I’m not supposed to be there and everyone who’s in the know, lets you know you’re unwelcome. One time I was at the House of Blues in Chicago to see the band Marianas Trench, I went to see them by myself and if you’ve never been to a concert by yourself, I highly recommend, it feels spiritual, I promise. Anyway, I felt adventurous so I decided to walk up the stairs to see how far up I could go. I made it to the top level and it was almost nauseating on how high up it was. I will say it was pretty cool to see a concert from a bird’s eye view for a song or two, but that’s all I could stand before I started getting dizzy.   

Here’s the proof I was that high up haha. The lead singer, Josh Ramsay is in the back playing the drums, he was also singing while playing, pretty dang cool. 

As I was walking back down to the main level I got lost, (if you’ve never been into the House of Blues in Chicago they have a bunch of staircases with doors and actual doors that lead into rooms both types of doors look very similar.) I walked into one of those mystery doors to what I thought was the staircase I had used to walk up. Instead, I found myself in a room with a bunch of guys in business suits, who whipped their heads around to see who just walked through the door. All I remember is walking into a smokey room and all these guys were staring at me with puzzled looks, my anxiety got the best of me and I awkwardly waved and said “sorry, I’m trying to find the stairs,” turned around and left right away before they could even say anything. That's how the fashion industry makes me feel, like I’m walking in on something I have no business being a part of, which is a sucky feeling, if you know the feeling, hello I hope you’re doing well. I just want to let you know you’re not alone and I know how horrible the fashion industry makes you feel, and I’m sorry for both of us that this industry made us feel that way, but here we are against all odds thriving in it!!     One of my absolute favorite things about fashion is the creation of outfits and using articles of clothing that I already own. To me it’s a test to my creativity on how many outfits I can make using the same one item. Don’t get me wrong, I still buy new things to add to my wardrobe every once in a while, but  that’s few and far between, unless I’m super stressed or extremely emotional than watch out retail therapy, because here I come!! When I do make a purchase I try to make sure I can make at least three outfits with that one item before I finalize the purchase, well I usually try to do that. Sometimes you just buy things on a whim, and for me it usually becomes a staple in my wardrobe, I call it dumb luck. For example, when I was away at college I lived in a rural ass town in central Illinois, and trust me they’ll let you know you’re in central and not southern Illinois. There’s only a few places to shop for clothes in town, the biggest selection was at Walmart, which I frequented a lot, since well, you know there’s nothing really to do in a small town anyway. Honestly that’s how they get you with that one stop shop food and clothes in one place, hellz yeah!! I felt like I was always broke, but I would somehow always find money to browse the clothes section :) I normally only buy off the sales racks, because I took fashion merchandising classes and I know how things work, haha. This particular time, my attention was drawing me to this long shaggy vest, my first thought was, “This looks so 70s” then it reminded me of Penny Lane from the movie Almost Famous, so I knew it would be a smart addition to my wardrobe, because you can’t go wrong with anything fuzzy and warm, especially if it reminds you of one of your favorite movies. 

That whim purchase has now become one of my most prized possessions and a wardrobe staple. Do you ever do that math thing to figure out how much it cost to wear that one item you purchased? So lets take that shaggy 70s vest and say I wore it 10 times and made 10 different outfits with it, you take how much you paid for it, which was $26 and divide it by 10, so every time I wore that vest it was $2.60 a wear. Not too bad in my opinion and totally worth the buy!! That is one of my absolute favorite things about fashion, the ability to keep using the same piece for different outfits. And the more you wear that piece the more you’re getting your money’s worth!! Here are 3 outfits using that shearling faux fur vest.  

I hope you’ve enjoyed the first in my series, Michelle’s Pros and Cons of the Fashion Industry. I can’t wait to write more about the fashion industry through my eyes, and hopefully be able to connect with people through our fashion woes and finds. I’ll have to figure out a signature sign off, but for now enjoy your moment and thank you for the read!!

Sincerely,

Michelle 

[gukyi]

white chocolate fudge | ksj

⇒ summary: you and seokjin are the heads of your class, but recently he’s been sneaking off with shitty excuses and leaving you to watch over the students. when you finally follow him after he abruptly bails on your evening walk, you find yourselves in the forbidden forest with… a hippogriff hatchling? 

⇒ hogwarts!au

⇒ pairing: seokjin x female reader

⇒ word count: 11k

⇒ genre: tooth rotting fluff

⇒ warnings: alcohol mention if you consider felix felicis an alcohol

⇒ a/n: guess who’s going to be a starting a series (it’s me)! this will not be a continuation of one specific fic, but rather a compilation of hogwarts!aus for each member, set roughly during the same universe. it’s called SORTED, and this is the first part! i hope you enjoy and please leave me any messages here. (this is unedited, because of course it is.)

It’s no secret that Seokjin is a fantastic student. Prefect, perfect OWLs, Gryffindor’s star Keeper. He’s every teacher’s dream pupil, always attentive and obedient and helpful, so much so that it comes as no surprise to see him be voted Head Boy for your final year, all of the professors beaming as they announce his name. His walk up to the front of their table in the Great Hall is followed loudly by applause as people from every house cheer, because of course it’s Seokjin, who is so powerful and enigmatic that he can unite the houses.

What does come as a surprise, as you continue to applaud the boy you find so enthralling yet so far away, is when your name is the one that’s called next, the teachers equally as proud to be announcing you as Head Girl. It’s not as though you are as eccentric as he, but you certainly do not live up the standards he has set. Your grades are decent, better than most, and you have good relations with the student body and your teachers, but that hardly qualifies you to uphold the responsibility of Head Girl. However, you’re not one to object, especially when the position will look attractive on your resumés and transcripts, so you, too, stand up from your seat at the Ravenclaw house table and walk to the front.

People applaud you just the same, but you know that their excitement does not compare to theirs when Seokjin was announced.

As you stand up there, nearly a meter apart and stiff as statues, he turns his head and shoots you his Signature Seokjin Smile, and it takes all of your restraint not to melt. You send a small grin in response before facing forward.

Your harbored crush on the boy has been steady for a while, morphing from a mere attraction to genuine care as the years have passed, as you spent brief moments together in the hallways or on projects. It’s never enough, but then again, neither are you, and you’re all much too busy to be spending time on relationships, anyway. But he is unattainable, out of your reach, because who could ever match the greatness that he embodies, as it’s certainly not you. Even as you shake hands, excited to be partners for a full year rather than a simple week, you keep him at a distance, fearful of what may happen if you let him draw too close.

It’s nearing the end of the November of your final year at Hogwarts and despite your vow to keep him distant, Seokjin has become closer than ever, and your heart is eager to open itself up to him, even with your warnings. You know every word you say to him makes the bubbling volcano in your chest get hotter, and you worry about what will happen when it explodes. For now, the friendship the two of you have built is enough.

Ever since the summer, Seokjin has been sending his faithful owl to your window, a tiny little pygmy that’s as cute as he is, with a heartwarming letter attached.

29 June

Hey Y/N!

It’s Seokjin, and I’ve sent my owl to you so that we can become closer before the next school year when we are plagued with the responsibility of being Head Boy and Girl. It’s a daunting task, isn’t it?

I know you’re wondering how I got your address and how my little owl didn’t collapse during the journey, and I can assure you that I found your place completely legally in the Wizard Handbook (your family’s Malfunctioning Magical Tools business seems fantastic, by the way) and that this little tyke (her name is Pudge) is a strong gal, so she can make it. She would appreciate it if you rubbed her right behind the ears, though. Gets some kinks out.

I’ve only sent this letter as a starting off point, so hopefully you don’t find it too awkward. Hi, I’m Seokjin, I’m in Gryffindor and I play Keeper on the house team, and I really, really love Pumpkin Pasties. In fact, I love all pumpkin-flavored edible goods. I would probably have sex with them if it were morally acceptable.

You?

Love, Your hopefully new friend, Seokjin.

14 July

Y/N,

Happy Bastille Day! I know I don’t look like someone who keeps up with most of the muggle antics in the world, but Bastille Day seemed like something fun to mention. Speaking of muggles, I was wondering what your blood status was? No hate, I promise, I just wanted to find out. It’s a nice thing to know about people, especially your friends.

Fine, fine, you can stop pestering me. I’m half-blooded, but spend so little time in the Muggle world that people often think I’m pure. No purity in this one! It gives me quite a laugh, sometimes.

I do hope you consider us friends as well, because if you don’t, I’ll be hypothetically mortified. But we’re close enough, right? I know your favorite animals and spells and food, so I think that counts as a friendship.

Also, attached is a photo of Pudge and I. It was supposed to be a Polaroid of just me, but Pudge loves technology and couldn’t resist. She’s adorable, isn’t she?

Talk to you soon, Seokjin (and Pudge)

20 August

Salutations, Y/N,

Since our final school year is fast approaching, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up in Diagon to buy all of our stuff? We could probably drop by Hogsmeade too if you’d like. How does the 24th sound?

On another note, I finally passed my Apparition test! Took a solid three tries, but I did it! Aren’t you proud? I’m very excited.

I must warn you, though. If and when we meet up in Diagon I will be incredibly sappy and nostalgic due to the fact that it will be my last time buying my cauldrons and books and pet food as a student, and that will make me sad. I hope you’re prepared.

I think this marks the 25th letter I’ve sent to you, which means that you’ve sent me 24 back. Soon we’ll be at 50! Also, I think Pudge has taken quite the liking to you, so be sure to give her some extra love during her brief respite on your windowsill. She’s practically beaming every time she returns from her odyssey.

See you soon? Seokjin

Somehow, even through mere words on a piece of parchment, old and worn at the edges and tucked under the beak of a bird the size of your palm, you fell harder.

But when September came, it meant school, and that meant you would be seeing each other daily, and not just for a brief second but for hours on end.

You’ve been able to witness all sides of Seokjin, and while he does have his bad days his mood is uncannily bright, as he converses with the ghosts, directs a first-year to their class, trains tediously on the Quidditch field. And you are there through it all.

You have become, dare you say, close friends, the obligations of Head Boy and Head Girl drawing you together when you had hoped they’d keep you apart. You’ve even been acquainted with his friends, a rowdy group of mismatched boys scattered across different houses and years. They’re a difficult group to miss, not when they’re almost always causing some sort of trouble, trouble Seokjin suspiciously lets slide most of the time.

But as November draws to a close, you notice Seokjin becoming more distant, more secretive. Your nightly tours around the empty castle have become more sparse, ever since Seokjin said he was going to help Sprout and plant aficionado Hoseok with some outside work, but you can’t imagine why that would be any reason for his disappearances. His answers to your questions are becoming shorter, quick spits of a “Yes” or “No” or “I don’t know” before he’s off, off somewhere you don’t like thinking about.

You can’t help but wonder the reason for this shift in behavior. Seokjin has always been attentive, always friendly and always understanding. He still is, make no mistake, but simply not to you anymore. Is it something you said? An accidental slip of the tongue, an insensitive comment? It can’t have been. Seokjin is caring and sympathetic, but he doesn’t fear a little confrontation. He is a Gryffindor, after all. He would have told you.

The possibility of him having a girlfriend hangs high above your head, flashing red whenever he blows you off without an explanation. You don’t mean for that to be your primary worry, but somehow it is, you having convinced yourself that the time you spend together warrants something more than friendship. He has every right to not tell you what he’s doing (it’s none of your business, anyway), but that’s no reason for his abrupt goodbyes.

Late at night, after doing your final rounds alone and going back to your dorm to finish up the schoolwork you have, you bitterly hope he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can think of that would explain his behavior, other than having a significant other. Why else would he be so secretive?

“Have you guys noticed anything about Seokjin recently?”

It’s the middle of lunch and you see his scraggle of friends camping out in the middle of the Hufflepuff table, pigging out over what looks to be a delectable meal of pizza and fries. You don’t really expect anything less from the group, especially not when you catch Hoseok insisting on some sort of greenery with the food, shoving broccoli towards the rest of the boys as he pops an entire stalk in his own mouth.

“What?” Taehyung asks, his mouth overflowing with gooey cheese.

“Have you noticed anything different?” You repeat. “He’s been acting strange lately. It’s worrying me.”

“I haven’t noticed anything,” Namjoon replies. Namjoon finishes the slice of pizza in his hand, leaving the crust and dropping it onto the his plate, untouched. Jimin sneaks a hand over to snatch it up.

“Then again, you spend more time with him nowadays than we do,” Taehyung says, swallowing down his mouthful of cheese.

“Don’t be worried, Y/N,” Hoseok says reassuringly, sneaking a piece of broccoli into Taehyung’s mouth before he can do anything to protest it. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Why are you worried? Do you have a crush on him or something?” Jungkook quips. He makes your face heat up at the mention of a crush, which only earns a chuckle from him and Jimin. You can’t even hide in the Great Hall.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You lie, maintaining a stiff stature and steady voice.

“Oh come on, Y/N, you really don’t think you’re that inconspicuous, do you?” asks Jungkook.

You try not to meet his eyes, but you know all of them already know. Turns out your secret glances at Seokjin in class and the hallways and during meals weren’t so secret after all.

“It it that obvious?” You ask.

“Sort of. All of us know, but Seokjin is blind as a bat,” Namjoon sighs. “It’s quite sad, actually. He seems to really enjoy your company.”

That gets your spirits up a little. You knew you both liked spending time with each other, but hearing it from Namjoon makes it seem like it’s natural, like Seokjin doesn’t feel forced to tell you he likes spending time with you just because it’s you.

“He does?”

“We’ll let you know if we notice anything change,” Yoongi promises.

“Thanks,” you say, turning on your heels to go finish your work in the library. You’re technically not allowed to have food in the library, not because they might dirty the books but because some of those books might smell it and come alive, but who’s really going to call you out?

“Wait, Y/N,” Jimin says. “I don’t think you should be too concerned.”

You raise your eyebrow in question, turning back.

“He’s probably just getting more uncontrollable boners around you,” Jimin says, earning cackles and snickers from everyone else.

You shake your head fondly as you walk out the Great Hall, their laughs fading. You expect nothing less.

Over the next few days, you become adamant about Seokjin spending more time with you. He seems apologetic enough for not sticking to your designated Head Boy and Girl schedule like he had at the beginning of the year, so you suggest that you hang around each other after curfew to do your rounds, at least for a little while.

You meet him outside the Gryffindor common room after the first warning for curfew sounds, and he smiles as you approach him. It is warm and inviting, and briefly makes you forget about all the times he’s blown you off.

“How have you been?” You ask him, strolling casually down the halls next to each other as students rush to make it back to their dormitories before Filch catches them out. Your hands gloss over one another, but you don’t make a move and neither does he.

“Busy,” Seokjin replies, and you can’t help but wish he didn’t respond with such an ambiguous answer. Busy can mean a lot of things, and you know it’s not just with schoolwork.

“Me too,” you say, unsure of what to talk about next. Some nights, like these, are nights where the two of you say very little, if anything at all, instead merely relishing in each others’ silent company. The night is quiet, and so are you. “It’s so difficult being in our last year. I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything.”

“You’re Head Girl,” Seokjin says, smiling as he motions towards the badge pinned on your chest, gleaming gold. It weighs down your robe, heavier than you wish it was.

“But I feel like that’s my only accomplishment in this school. My lasting impression on this school is another plaque on the wall in the Trophy Room, forgotten until Filch forces one of the students to clean it for detention,” You sigh. Compared to Seokjin, you’re just another fly on the wall.

“That’s not true,” Seokjin says. He takes your hands in his and looks to straight in the eye. “You’ve left a lasting impression on me,” He says softly.

You glance into his chestnut brown eyes and take a frantic step back, the ambient softness replaced by stiff awkwardness.

“Well,” you begin. “That’s all very well and good.”

“Yeah, um, I guess so,” Seokjin says, scratching the nape of his neck. You know he’s embarrassed, but you don’t know why.

The rest of the evening, you try to keep the mood light, hoping to recover from the sufficiently awkward incident at the start of your time together. Seokjin has been doing a lot, from applying to jobs in the Ministry of Magic to finishing up final graduation projects. It’s not even December yet, and graduation looms above your heads like an unwelcome grey cloud.

You’re in the middle of a very intense friendly discussion on whether Felix Felicis does more harm than help. You say it’s dangerous when used recklessly, and Seokjin, ever the adventurous Gryffindor, insists that Felix Felicis is a harmless potion that exists purely to engage the drinker in a little bit of fun.

“I’m telling you, Seokjin, Felix Felicis has so many negative side-effects—”

“Is one of them being a party pooper?” Seokjin retorts, poking you on the nose and making you scrunch up your face.

You roll your eyes and continue. Ravenclaws are bad at a lot of things, like having good alcohol tolerance and keeping their mouths shut, but the one thing they can do extremely well is argue. “No, hear me out. When we consider the ingredients of Felix Felicis—”

You barely notice the clock strike eleven, too enraptured into your debate to care about what time it is. You haven’t gotten more than eight hours of sleep since your fifth year, anyway. In fact, you’re listing off the ingredients of Felix Felicis on your fingers when you look up and see Seokjin bolting down the hallway, already nearing the next corner.

“Seokjin!” You call, insulted. You can’t believe he’d blow you off so blatantly.

He turns his head around to face you, but continues running. “Sorry, Y/N! We’ll have to continue the debate in the morning!” You watch him snatch a lantern from a ledge outside the Charms room before he’s off.

Oh no. This is not happening again. You’ve gone through this one too many times and you are determined to figure out where he keeps sneaking off to, even if it may mean a couple days of heartbreak for you. Before, you weren’t lucky enough to find him actually going on his journey before, but your nagging and his sympathy have allowed you to finally catch him in the act.

You hear Filch muttering a couple hallways down, scheming with Mrs. Norris, and while you know you are technically allowed to be out, you’d rather not deal with his bitterness and Mrs. Norris’ worryingly frightening cat stare tonight.

So, you do what any normal, well-mannered Hogwarts student would do, which is dash. There’s no lantern by the Charms room to save you, but there doesn’t need to be. You remember the way Seokjin turned after he ran off, and you follow him.

Granted, it is a bit stalker-ish and a bit unorthodox, but it truly is the only way to find out Seokjin’s whereabouts.

One thing you pride yourself on his having a great memory, such a Ravenclaw thing to be proud of, which means you don’t need any Marauders’ Map to help you find the path that Seokjin took. That, and you’ve gotten close enough to him to catch the dim glow of the lantern he’s carrying with him.

At first, you think he’s headed to a girls’ dormitory. It’s a bit of a rushed assumption, but it’s late and your mind can’t help but get the better of you as you trace his steps. If he has a girlfriend, then so be it. The distance you’ve kept from him will allow you to simply sneak off without him ever knowing that you followed him or that you have a massive crush on him, so it’s a win-win situation.

However, as you continue to trail him you notice that he’s making turns that will lead him not to a common room, but outside. What?

More than once, Seokjin nearly catches you. He turns around often, clearly worried someone will catch him, especially when he’s muttering Alohomora into a door lock or tiptoeing down one of the many staircases in the castle. Luckily, the night is on your side, and when he turns around after hearing a floorboard creak, you can hide in its shadows.

When he actually does lead you outside, you know it’s not a girlfriend that he’s hiding from you. He traipses the ground carefully, though to be honest, there’s no need for him to, not when no one’s going to find him outside.

You both reach the Forbidden Forest, a place you most certainly did not expect Seokjin to be sneaking off to. There are only so many things he could get up to in the Forbidden Forest, and you know that he’s not going in the middle of the night to drink unicorn blood.

You have to distance yourself from him for a little, whispering Lumos into your wand to keep your path illuminated. You follow the shadow of his body for another several minutes before you lose him after being frightened by some small night creature. You shine your wand in the direction and find a little bunny, eyes blinking red in the light.

“You scared me, Jesus,” you whisper to the bunny, a hand over your chest to calm your racing heart down. The bunny tilts his head at you curiously before hopping away, the fallen leaves crinkling under its feet.

You hear the crunches of the leaves a mere few meters away, and immediately spring up. However, the light from Seokjin’s lantern has disappeared, meaning you can only trust the sounds you hear to lead you to the right place. As you creep around, you hear a faint squawk from below you, causing you to stumble.

“Fuck,” you swear, hoping Seokjin doesn’t hear you. You look down and shine your light at the source of the noise, only to be met with a little hippogriff. “Oh, hello.” You smile at the little tyke, looking up at you with innocent yellow eyes. “Are you all alone?”

The hatchling squawks again.

“Y/N?”

Your head shoots up and your hand instinctively goes to point your wand to the sound of your name, when you come face-to-face with an illuminated Seokjin, confused, surprised, and wide-eyed.

“Seokjin?”

“What are you doing here?”

You don’t have an excuse for this. I wanted to see where you always sneak off to is too stalkerish of a thing to say, and I just so happened to stumble out here is illogical.

“Um, I forgot I had something to tell you,” you fib, stalling so you can get more time to think of a believable lie. “I just wanted to catch up so I could say it.”

“You followed me?”

“Not purposefully. I just wanted to get to a comfortable stopping point, and apparently this is it.” You motion to the hatchling on the forest floor, between both of your legs. “With this little guy.”

Seokjin shifts his gaze nervously from your eyes to the hippogriff. “What did you want to say?”

“Just that… uh… I wanted to know if you had a girlfriend. Your friends think you’ve been secretive recently,” You pause, making up the words as you go. Sure, throwing Namjoon and them under the bus isn’t the best way to go about this, but there’s nothing else you can think of.

“I don’t,” Seokjin spits harshly. “Is that it?”

“Why are you trying to get rid of me so quickly?”

“Why did you follow me?”

“I already told you why, Seokjin. It wasn’t on purpose,” you sigh.

“But you did,” Seokjin reasons. “Do you not trust me? Am I not allowed to keep secrets?”

“What on earth are you so afraid of telling me?”

You don’t realize how much your voices have escalated until Seokjin almost shouts at you. “I’m taking care of him!”

“Him?”

“The hippogriff,” Seokjin elaborates, his voice significantly softer now. You see the worry in his eyes, and wonder if it reflects your own.

“This hippogriff? You’re taking care of him? In the middle of the Forbidden Forest?”

Seokjin chuckles at your shock. “Yeah, it’s me. His mom abandoned him, and I found him when I strayed off the path when I was helping Sprout and Hoseok. He’s cute. I’ve been doing a lot of research on hippogriffs. He needs attention and food or he’ll grow up to be reclusive and afraid, and I don’t want him to grow up like that.”

Instantly, your anger at him subsides. Sneaking off to care for an orphaned baby hippogriff was nowhere close to what was on your list of possible shenanigans Seokjin was getting up to when he blew you off, but in hindsight, you should have expected something like this. Only Seokjin would do this type of thing. You can just imagine him, in the brisk fall weather, leaning down to feed the baby small bits of ferret and vegetation, nuzzling his nose, stroking his feathers, all while you fume to your friends about how much Seokjin doesn’t care about whatever relationship you share.

“That’s so sweet, Seokjin,” you say, touched. “But why so late at night?”

“I never have time during the day. I see him once in the morning and once at night, but I make sure to leave food around in case he gets hungry. He’s very loyal, so he doesn’t normally stray too far from this vicinity,” Seokjin replies. “I’m sorry I kept running off.”

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault, really,” you assure him. “But I’m not so sure about this, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks, trying to uphold his facade. You know he knows what you mean, or he wouldn’t have been so secretive.

“I mean, this is sort of illegal. Without the approval of the school board, we can’t take care of Level Three animals like these,” you say, avoiding his eyes so you don’t have to see the hurt in them.

“But he’s just a baby,” Seokjin says, looking longingly at the animal. He looks back up at you. “I don’t want to put him in the hands of the Ministry. They’d put him in a zoo, or experiment on him. I can’t let that happen.”

“Seokjin, this could get us suspended,” you stress. With every word, he becomes more frantic. “We need to tell someone.”

“You can’t.”

Your head shoots up at his stern words, and you’ve never seen Seokjin look so determined.

“I can’t?”

“You can’t, Y/N,” Seokjin repeats. He comes closer to you, making you tense up as he firmly places his hands on the sides of your arms. You stare into his eyes and see only desperation, Seokjin putting himself out on the line just for you. It makes you shut your eyes, the only way to avoid his, boring into your soul. “You have to trust me.”

“Okay,” you say. “I trust you.”

“I trust you too.”

You take those final words as cue to take a step back, nearly running over the little hippogriff at your feet. He cries out as you step on one of his wings, and your face immediately shifts from one of solemness to worry.

“Oh no! Oh no, I didn’t mean it!” You cry, turning around to apologize to the creature. As you approach him, he backs away from you rapidly, until Seokjin comes in from behind to sooth it.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Seokjin cooes, scooping him up and petting him gently. “Y/N didn’t mean to do that, did you?”

You shake your head.

“See, she’s friendly,” Seokjin promises, ushering the animal closer to you.

You hold a hand out for him to sniff you before he accepts your touch. He looks so comfortable in Seokjin’s hands, like that’s his home rather than the cold forest floor.

“Did you name him?”

“Fudge.”

“Wow, very original,” you comment, making Seokjin chuckle to himself. “I wonder where you came up with that.”

“It was all I could think of,” Seokjin says defensively, smiling.

You point to the little thing, curling up inside itself in Seokjin’s palms. “He’s not even brown. You fail the name game.”

“We’ll call him White Chocolate Fudge,” Seokjin decides. “Fudge for short.”

“Fudge for short?” You ask incredulously. “You’re the worst.”

“Fudge doesn’t think so.” Seokjin raises an eyebrow.

“God damn you, Fudge,” you mutter, reaching a hand out to pet his head. You rub Fudge behind the ears and he folds into your touch, beaming in the darkness of the night.  

“You can always help me take care of him, you know,” Seokjin suggests. “I could always use the helping hand.”

“Really?” You ask, intrigued. “I’d love to.”

“That’d be great!” Seokjin exclaims, nearly shouting. “I’m always so busy with applications to the Ministry and our NEWTs, so if both of us work together, Fudge can get more food and attention. Nice!” He holds up a hand for a high-five, and you take it.

To Seokjin, this is just a more efficient way of taking care of the hippogriff before he grows up. To you, it’s a sign that things might be changing.

You and Seokjin have a pretty decent schedule worked out. He visits Fudge in the morning and you visit in the afternoon, on your way to your usual Herbology class. Normally, Sprout doesn’t mind if you show up a bit late, especially since you have some of the best grades in the class and are always willing to stay back a bit afterwards to help clean up after the plants inevitably get out of hand. The both of you grab dinner from the Great Hall (and some extra meat, as well) and meet up in the Forbidden Forest to eat on the grass with Fudge next to you, waddling around to bite pieces of chicken dangling from your hands. It’s a good system, and all the better that you get to share it with Seokjin.

“Fudge! Come here, Fudge!” You say, trying to coax him over to you as you lean against a dead tree the school hasn’t bothered to cut down, holding a piece of chicken in front of his nose.

“You’re treating him like a dog,” Seokjin says, laughing as Fudge flits his way over to you.

“Just because he’s a hippogriff doesn’t mean he can’t be loved like a dog,” you tell him sternly. The chicken piece hangs from your hand just high enough for Fudge to be unable to reach it from the ground, so he flaps his wings and snatches it from you a couple inches in the air. “Good boy! Who’s a good boy?” You exclaim excitedly, rubbing Fudge right by the wings, where you’ve discovered he likes it the most.

“He’s a good boy,” Seokjin mimics, in that enunciated, high-pitched voice that you have every time you see a cute animal.

“Oh, shut up.” You sneer at him, kicking him in the shin.

“It’s cute,” he laughs, aggressively stuffing some garlic bread into his mouth before Fudge can get a whiff. Like a dog, he seems drawn to most edible things, but the textbooks in the school library clearly state the creature’s diet cannot be anything except his usual bugs, birds, and the occasional small land animal.

“You’re cute,” you say before your eyes widen as your brain catches up. Fuck.

Seokjin chuckles. “Thanks, I know.” He pretends to flip some imaginary hair.

“I didn’t mean to boost your ego, smartass,” you grin.

“You’re cute too,” Seokjin says, and you try to keep smiling through the heat rising on your cheeks. “Now we both have boosted egos.”

“Oh yes, very even,” you comment.

“Only the best for the Head Boy and Girl,” Seokjin says. His watch dings, meaning that the two of you have to finish doing your rounds before getting back to your designated dorms and finishing up the homework for the night. The best part about being Head Boy and Girl? Free reign of the library. “Come on, let’s go.”

You hum in response, getting up. Fudge has been flying a lot more than before you came around, so watching you stand up prompts him to start flying around as well, landing on Seokjin’s shoulder.

“Look at this little guy,” Seokjin says. “I almost want to bring you with.”

“Another day,” you advise. “When it’s legal.”

“Aw, don’t you ever want to do anything bad? You’re so… good,” Seokjin says, teasing you.

“Yes, and I like being good. It means I don’t have to worry about getting expelled,” you sneer, taking Fudge from Seokjin’s shoulder and setting him on the pile of leaves below. He squawks in disappointment, so you take one last piece of chicken from your plate and drop it to him below. He eagerly gobbles it up. “Get your priorities straight.”

Seokjin laughs at that before bidding farewell to Fudge, who knows well enough not to follow the two of you.

On your way back, you say, “I’m going to transfigure my Alchemy homework into a pillow for Fudge. He seems so cold these days.”

“His feathers have gotten a bit thicker since it’s winter. But if you’re going to do that, I’ll transfigure my Alchemy homework into a nice wool blanket,” Seokjin adds.

“I guess we figured out what subject we both hate,” you laugh. “But please, leave the transfiguring to me. You’re absolute shit at it.”

“Hey!” Seokjin exclaims, mouth open wide, insulted. “Just because I accidentally set fire to your Arithmancy textbook that one time—”

“You were trying to transfigure my textbook into a box of Bertie’s! That textbook cost at least seven Galleons more than a box of jellybeans,” you retort, defensively.

“Okay, but nothing burned down, so it’s okay.”

“You roasted my textbook! I’ve been stuck with a shitty, beat-up school one ever since,” you sigh. “I don’t know how they haven’t revoked your Head Boy status yet.”

Seokjin bats his eyelashes at you. “It’s because everyone is in love with me.”

Especially me, you think to yourself.

A crash sounds from one of the hallways windows.

Seokjin looks at you, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Come on!” He shouts, grabbing your hand and pulling you across the field, towards the entrance to Hogwarts. Hopefully, he doesn’t hear how quickly your heart is racing.

“You don’t look too concerned about anything anymore, Y/N.”

You look up after shoving a forkful of scrambled egg into your mouth to see Namjoon looking at you, expecting some sort of reply.

“What? I looked concerned?”

“Yeah, like two weeks ago when you came barging in during lunch stressed about Seokjin,” Jungkook reminds you.

You only remember then that Seokjin had “forgotten” to tell the rest of the boys about Fudge the Hippogriff and abstained from saying anything else. So there they were, his clueless best friends who like making dick jokes and shoving food into each others’ mouths, blissfully unaware of the baby hippogriff in the Forbidden Forest.

“Oh yeah, we sorted it out,” you say simply.

Namjoon wonders aloud. “Did he finally ask you out?”

“What?”

“Guess not, then.”

You begin to trip over your words. “But—when—why—would he have a reason to?”

Jimin sniggers, and you shoot your head in his direction and give him a poisonous glare.

“I don’t know, don’t you want him to ask you out?” Namjoon asks.

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean he does,” you reason, treading carefully. One wrong move and you could easily expose yourself to Seokjin.

Namjoon hums, finishing the last of his glass of orange juice. “Don’t be too sure about that.”

You’ve been thinking on Namjoon’s words for the past weekend, and because you’ve been thinking, you’ve subsequently been avoiding Seokjin, spitting out excuses reminiscent of his pathetic ones before he told you about the whole hippogriff deal.

“Oh, I got caught up with some first-years who needed help transfiguring their matches back to needles.”

“I had to help Trelawney with cleaning up her classroom after a messy Divination class with the third-years.”

“I was with some friends.”

“I had homework.”

“I’m busy.”

Was Namjoon right? Does he really feel like that about you? Are your feelings actually mutual? You’re very skeptical, especially because you haven’t seen Seokjin himself give you any hints. Sure, Namjoon is more observant than all of your professors combined, but how can you trust him when he’s not Seokjin?

You can only dream about what it might be like to have Seokjin reciprocate your feelings instead of you confessing and him rejecting you in a maelstrom of I’m sorry’s, I only see you as a friend’s, and I have eyes for someone else’s. What it might be like to have him hold your hand all the time, not just in private, to look at you like you look at him, like he has supernovas in his eyes. What it might be like to not only love but also to be loved.

You have to admit, avoiding Seokjin is a difficult task. He’s practically always around you, and if he’s not, he’s often barely a few meters away, talking to someone else. You don’t like to think about how many times you’ve seen him talking to another student or a professor and immediately dashed the other way, hoping he doesn’t see you.

He eventually catches you. You can only stay away from the boy for so long, you suppose.

“Y/N!”

You whip your head around—a rookie mistake if you’re being honest (you should have just kept walking)—to find Seokjin speeding towards you, his robes flying elegantly in the wind as he reaches you.

“Seokjin?”

“Finally,” he says, heaving as he rests his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. You know the boy is joking with his need to rest, what with all of his experience with Quidditch. “You run fast.”

“You fly faster,” you say back quickly. “What’s up?”

“Meet me in the Forest tonight,” he says, still heaving loudly. “It’s urgent.”

“I am not going to let you practice the Body-Bind curse on me.”

“No, not that!” Seokjin laughs. “It’s about Fudge. I need you to come when you’re finished your rounds. I’ll be there.”

“Is everything alright?” You ask, seemingly more concerned now that you know it’s not one of his terrible pranks. “Is something wrong with him?”

“I just need you there, okay?” He asks, eyebrows raised. He doesn’t even leave time for a response before he’s off, jogging away in the other direction, worried, afraid, and anxious.

Night falls and Filch catches you out this time as you’re finishing your rounds in the most secluded part of the castle, calling you out before realizing that it’s you and apologizing before moving on his way. Once he’s gone, you drop the feigned smile on your face and make a dash for the Forest, hissing Alohomora into the lock of the door that leads to the grounds. Your wand is your only source of light as you make your way down the hill and into the forest, where you whisper Seokjin’s name.

“Seokjin?”

“Y/N?” He whispers back. “Get over here.”

“What’s going on?” You ask, voice tense. “Is Fudge okay?”

“He’s fine,” Seokjin assures you, and you immediately fume at the fact that he got you all worked up for nothing.

You smack his shoulder aggressively, making him yelp in pain. “Why did you make it seem like he was dying, you asshole?”

“Hey! I needed some way to get you down here to see this,” Seokjin frowns, rubbing the spot on his shoulder where you hit him.

“See what?”

At that moment you are presented with Fudge in front of you, except he is lying on a fluffy pet bed on the forest floor, complete with several very tiny pillows and a violent purple blanket. He looks right spoiled, judging from the content smile on his face as he dozes off.

“You’re kidding.”

“No way, man. Transfigured it all myself, no homework was harmed in the process,” he proclaims, beaming as he rocks back and forth on his toes.

“So what did you use?”

“Let’s just say my roommates may be missing a few of their less vital items.” Seokjin winks at you, making you scrunch up your nose.

“He looks fantastic,” You say. A breeze blows by, making your nose turn even more numb than it already was. You can feel your ears freezing. Below you, Fudge shivers, even under all of that warmth.

“Another thing I wanted to quickly bring up is the reason for your avoidance of me this past weekend,” Seokjin says, hitting the nail right on the head. Ouch. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You? No! No, no, of course not. I’ve just been out of it, you know?” You say hesitantly, trying to make sure he knows that it’s not his fault. “I’ve been swamped and kind of sick and lack the motivation to do almost anything.”

“I believe the American term for that is Senioritis,” Seokjin says, matter-of-factly. “But I get it, I get it. I just don’t understand why you’re pulling a Seokjin towards me, a Seokjin.”

“Oh, shut up! I’ve been busy, ‘ts all,” you exclaim. “It’s revenge for what you did to me before you told me about Fudge.”

“Alright, you got me,” Seokjin says, smiling. He holds out a hand. “Even?”

“I don’t know…” you trail off. “Maybe I need to just keep avoiding yo—”

“Don’t do that to me, Y/N!” Seokjin pouts, crossing his arms. “I need your company.”

“You’re so very whiny, Seokjin,” you complain. “You remind me of Jungkook.”

“I picked it up from him,” Seokjin jokes, and the two of you laugh together. The air is chilly and the wind is biting but he is warm and sunny, and perhaps it’s inappropriate for the season but you could bask in his burning rays for the rest of the night.

Seokjin spots you as you’re leaving the Headmaster’s office as another professor rounds up the third-years for their first trip to Hogsmeade a couple days later. You’re surprised to see him walking up to you, bounding up the stairs two at a time to meet you as the top.

“Oh!” You exclaim, your shoulders jumping. “You scared me, Seokjin.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to seem so intense walking up those stairs. I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade together? We could sneak our way in with the third-years,” he offers.

You shift on your toes nervously, “With the third-years? I’m sure we could get in some other way.”

“We could just say we’re going to watch them for their first trip,” Seokjin suggests, already linking arms with you and walking you down the steps, two at a time. “The teacher’s will be fine it with. They get tired of Hogsmeade sometimes.”

“Are you sure?” You ask. “You seem to have too much faith in your schmoozing abilities, sometimes.”

Seokjin stands up taller. “My schmoozing abilities are phenomenal, thank you very much.” He taps you on your nose before dragging you to the Professor reminding the third-years of their permission slips and rules and restrictions.

He does all of the talking, and you are able to witness first-hand how good his schmoozing abilities really are, because it’s only a matter of a few sentences before the professor is gladly handing the reins to him, alerting all of the third-years that “Seokjin and Y/N will be supervising you!”

You sneer at him, and he winks.

“The third-years don’t know how lucky they’re getting,” Seokjin mutters into your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin. The professor walks off delightedly, proudly alerting another one of the teachers that it’ll be you guys who watch the third-years, rather than them. “I have no plans on supervising them.”

You smack his shoulder, the same place you hit him previously.

“You really have to stop aiming there,” Seokjin says. “That’s my catching arm.”

“Both of your arms are catching arms, smartass.”

“Yes, meaning that one is still my catching arm, smartass,” Seokjin mimics your tone, making the two of you sneer at each other as you move your heads closer to each other, noses nearly touching.

You’re joking like that with each other for the rest of the way to Hogsmeade, barely spending a second glance to keep watch over the third-years. You’ve worked with them before, and they are by far your best class to supervise. For some reason, they’re all just well-behaved kids. It’s very unusual.

When you get there, Seokjin immediately makes a beeline for the Three Broomsticks, but not before he grabs your arm and pulls you with, dashing through the snow like St. Nick’s reindeer. The rapid gust of heat as you enter causes your ears and nose to burn. As you turn to Seokjin, you notice that the tip of his nose and the tops of his ears are tinted red.

“Butterbeer?” He suggests, and you nod.

“I’ll get us a table.”

You take a seat at one of the benches in the furthest corner from the door to avoid the cold air, warming yourself up by the single lit candle in the middle of the table. Soon after, Seokjin walks over with two hearty glasses bubbling with butterbeer, and some straws.

“Nice,” you say, rubbing your hands together. “I’ve been looking forward to this ever since Hogwarts.”

“Me too,” he grins, setting the drinks down on the table. He sits down across from you and pushes your drink to you, a straw placed down right next to it.

“Straws are for the weak,” you comment as he takes his own and jams it against the wood of the table until the paper breaks.

“Hey,” he frowns as he places it in his butterbeer. “I’m insulted.”

“You don’t know butterbeer until the bubbles tickle your nose,” you tell him adventurously, making a show of you drinking the beverage to prove your point.

“Alright, fine,” Seokjin says. He picks up the straw in his drink and slams it down onto the table. “Let’s go. Butterbeer drinking contest.”

“You’re on.”

The subsequent three minutes are spent chugging down your butterbeers until there’s only beige bubbles at the bottom of the glass, drinking and drinking and drinking as you both eye each other with a ferocity. Seokjin beats you, obviously, but you come damn close.

“You have butterbeer all over your mouth,” you say when you both put your glasses down, their contents empty.

“So do you,” Seokjin laughs back. He burps, loudly too, and you can smell the butterbeer in his breath. He gets up to grab a couple of napkins before sitting back down, wiping his mouth. He reaches over the table to get the butterbeer remnants around your mouth, catching you by surprise. “You really aren’t a clean drinker.”

“Not when you challenge me to a drinking contest, asshole,” you retort, letting him continue to rub at the side of your mouth before he leans back. His ears are burning red again, but you don’t think that that’s because of the cold.

Merely a few days later, you and Seokjin are hanging around the Forbidden Forest during your shared lunch hour. Seokjin has on a thick coat, complete with his Gryffindor scarf and earmuffs, and you’re bundled up in several sweaters under your robe. It’s gotten too cold for Fudge to want to hang out on the forest floor, so he opts for warming up in his little bed.

“This is so quaint,” Seokjin comments, looking around the frost-covered forest. “Us, and Fudge, in a forest in the middle of winter. I feel like I’m in some sort of movie.”

“Some cheesy Christmas movie,” you add, chuckling to yourself.

“Where’s St. Nick when you need him? I want a new cauldron.”

“St. Nick is too busy to listen to your demands, Seokjin. How do you even know you’re on the ‘Nice’ list?” You retort, crossing your arms kind of to make a point but also because you’re getting colder as the night wears on. “After all those terrible things you’ve done to me this year.”

“Hey! I can be nice. I bought us Butterbeer when we went to Hogsmeade,” Seokjin protests. “Isn’t that nice?”

Fudge squawks from below the two of you, toddling up to Seokjin’s lanky legs and rubbing his beak against them.

“See?” Seokjin motions to the hippogriff. “Fudge thinks I’m nice.”

“I think you’re evil.”

Seokjin pouts, one of those big-lipped sad-eyed pouts that are too cartoonish to take seriously but too cute to ignore. “I think that you just think that you think I’m evil.”

You blink your eyes rapidly and shake your head, taken aback by his confusing, philosophical, word vomit. “I don’t know what you just said.”

Seokjin takes a step closer. You refuse to take a step back, because you know it’ll only make him step closer and closer to you until you’re backed up against a tree trunk in true cheesy Christmas movie fashion. “I think that you think that you like me.”

You blink again before clearing your throat, placing a pointer finger on Seokjin’s chest. Your typical reaction to Seokjin calling you out for your crush is instant denial. “I think that you think that I think that I like you,” you challenge. It’s one of those friendly competitions that you always have, but this time it’s a bit different. This time, it’s a bit more intense.

The both of you are so busy staring each other down that you don’t hear the crunch of leaves from a few meters away, not until Seokjin’s face is illuminated like a criminal caught in the dead of night.

“Headmaster?”

You whip your head around to find your Headmaster, merely beaming at the two of you. Seokjin meets your eyes as you look to each other with fright, and his eyes are blown wide.

“Mr. Kim, fine evening, isn’t it?”

“I-I suppose so, Professor,” Seokjin stutters, avoiding his gaze. Hopefully he hasn’t noticed that you aren’t doing the same. “What brings you here?”

“Just some browsing around the grounds. I’d love to get to know all of its inhabitants, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I guess I would,” Seokjin continues, his confidence knocked down several levels.

The Headmaster smiles. “Including your little hippogriff, am I correct?”

You knew the words were coming, knew he would mention the little tyke eventually, but even when they arrive, you aren’t prepared for the look Seokjin gives you. It’s not one of anger, or betrayal, or shock, it’s one of regret, and you most certainly aren’t accustomed to it. Not from bright, bright Seokjin, who is friendly and teasing and appreciative of you all the time.

“H-How do you know?”

“I’m afraid, Mr. Kim, and Ms. Y/L/N, that I have to take him away from you. The two of you simply do not have the authorization to take care of a creature such as he as students at this school,” the Headmaster says.

Seokjin breathes in a deep breath—he knew this was coming, too—and opens his eyes. “Must you, Professor?”

“I’m afraid so, Mr. Kim. This is not your duty.”

Seokjin nods, and from behind the Headmaster emerge two fellows wearing very official-looking Ministry outfits, equipped with cages and tranquilizers, the whole deal.

“No, it’s fine, you don’t need any of that stuff,” Seokjin assures them as they approach Fudge, who is currently terrified and shaking in the corner of his little bed. Seokjin leans down to Fudge, bending down on a single knee to hold his cupped palms out. Fudge doesn’t want to go into them, you can tell, but Seokjin coaxes him in anyway and gently places him in the open cage. Before the two men can close it, he snatches up the pillow and places it inside as well. “You’ll be okay, Fudge. They’ll take good care of you.”

“Thank you for your understanding, Mr. Kim and Ms. Y/L/N,” the Headmaster says. “Neither of you will face any penalties for this. I trust that I will not see you around the Forbidden Forest at this hour again.”

You both nod to the Headmaster before he and the other men vanish, taking Fudge with them. Seokjin makes no attempt to rescue him.

“Listen, Seokjin,” you immediately begin before he has a chance to storm off without listening to you. “You and I both know we couldn’t have continued to take care of Fudge. Or raise him on our own, watching him grow up for the rest of the year. Hippogriffs grow quickly and we aren’t accustomed to it, nor are we prepared to hide an ever-maturing creature in the shadows of the Forest, I had to—”

“Just when I started to fall for you,” he mutters, and it’s so inaudible that you’re sure it’s the trees that said that for a second, before you realize it was him. You can’t respond to his words, because he walks off, the skip in his step gone. The light on his wand is fading as well, and it seems that everything around you reflects the now somber mood.

You follow him back to the castle without saying another word.

Taehyung is the only thing separating you from Seokjin a week later, all three of you sat on the same side of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. The past several days have been met with mostly silence, the both of you going out of your ways to avoid each other. Seokjin doesn’t seem very keen on ending the Silent Treatment towards you, and to be honest, you’re perfectly fine with that, especially after the fiasco that was Fudge, the Hippogriff.

“You guys seem awfully down,” Taehyung comments from in between you two. “Did something happen?”

“No,” Seokjin says at the same time that you say, “Yes,” making the two of you glare at each other and the rest of the table look up in concern.

“Are you sure about that?” Taehyung asks Seokjin, clearly in disbelief. “It doesn’t look like you guys are very… friendly right now.”

“We’re fine,” Seokjin says, eliciting something of a snort from you. Taehyung turns his head sharply towards you as you keep your eyes trained on the plate in front of you.

“The people who didn’t know they had the Black Plague said that too, and look at where it got them,” Namjoon says. “Seriously, you two. We can tell when something’s up. We’re not stupid.”

“Well, maybe Jimin is,” Jungkook jokes. Jimin drops his spoonful of mashed potatoes on his plate with a clang as he tackles him.

“We’re fine,” Seokjin repeats. “Trust me. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, but the two of you are suspiciously unhappy at the exact same time,” Yoongi observes. “Huh.”

Just then is when Seokjin decides he’s had enough, standing up with his plate in hand and migrating out of the Great Hall. You watch him with a study gaze as he exits the room, leaving the rest of the group in silence, something you don’t experience very often.

“Now that he’s gone, Y/N can tell us what happened,” Jimin says eagerly, facing you. “Tell us the deets.”

“Don’t ever say the word ‘deets’ again,” Taehyung quips.

“There’s nothing to say,” you reply, oddly secretive of the drama between you and Seokjin. It just doesn’t feel like something you should spill out to the rest of the boys, especially when telling them The Story of Fudge, the Hippogriff requires lots of time and background knowledge on your crush on him, which they also don’t know much about. Quite frankly, you’d rather not. “I don’t have anything to tell you.”

Jimin whines in response, but Namjoon can clearly see your hesitance of the topic, and changes the subject.

As the second week since the incident in the Forbidden Forest blows by, you notice that Seokjin’s attitude towards you has shifted from mere avoidance to blatant annoyance, evidenced by his snappy tone every time you ask him to pass the salt. Your obligatory weekly meetings as Head Boy and Girl are brief, like they once were in the beginning of the year, and he normally just spits out information before walking off without hearing a single thing you’ve said.

You’ve long let go of the whole Fudge thing, finding it ridiculous to be so pissed with someone for more than a week, and while you try to make amicable means with Seokjin and repair the friendship he seems adamant about avoiding, he’s having none of it.

Seokjin knows exactly how to push your buttons, but you’ve tried to keep yourself calm around him, refusing to stoop to his level. You are Head Girl, after all.

You’re studying in the middle of the Ravenclaw common room when the door opens, Seokjin right behind it. Of course he solved the riddle, of course. You meet eyes briefly but turn your head immediately back to your textbook, the shitty replacement one after Seokjin barbecued your original copy. Jungkook is sitting on the chair opposite you, and you know Seokjin’s here for him.

Jungkook looks at you uneasily, and you shrug.

“Ah, Jungkook,” Seokjin says as he walks over, book in hand. “Here’s your book.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook replies, smiling.

“Hi, Seokjin,” you say, your eyes still trained on the words on the page. “How are you?”

You know Seokjin looks directly at you, yet he makes no note of you. “No problem.” With that, he’s gone.

You hear the door shut and look up from your work, closing the textbook roughly and crinkling up the notes you were taking.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, concerned.

“I’m fine,” you hiss, clearly not fine.

“You don’t seem fine,” Jungkook says. “I’m sorry Seokjin ignored you.”

“He’s being such a little bitch,” you say. “I don’t know why he can’t just move on. I did.”

“He’s a Gryffindor,” Jungkook says, as if that provides any consolation. “‘Moving on’ isn’t in his vocabulary.”

“Well, it should be,” you retort.

“Have you tried to talk to him?”

“Yes, multiple times. And he just keeps blowing me off, like dandelion wisps.”

Jungkook sighs. “Maybe you should just find a way to talk to him when he can’t blow you off.”

That gives you an idea. “Maybe I should,” you nod, smiling now. “Thanks, Jungkook.”

The younger boy nods in response before sitting back down in the chair, perusing through the book Seokjin brought back. You shuffle through your papers until you find a spare piece of parchment, and write a note.

The next morning, you catch Seokjin doing his homework in the library. As you walk by the desk he’s sitting at, you slam a note down next to his textbook.

6:30 in FF, tonight. Same spot. Meet you there.

This feels like the worst kind of first date ever, you think to yourself as you loiter around the Forbidden Forest, waiting for Seokjin. You have no watch on you but you know it should be nearing 6:30 any minute now. You’re wondering if Seokjin decided to bail on you, but you don’t think that he would do that. He’s been acting like an asshole recently, but he’s not that much of an asshole. At least, you hope he’s not.

You’re kicking around the dead leaves peeking out of the snow for what feels like a few more minutes before you hear a cough coming from your right. You whip around to find, sure enough, Seokjin standing there awkwardly, hands tucked into the pockets of the sweater he has on.

“You came,” you declare, though it’s more of a reaffirmation to yourself.

“Yeah. I got your note.”

“I should hope so, what with the elaborate display I made of getting it to you,” you say, walking towards him.

“Why did you want me here?”

“To talk.”

“I’m not here to talk,” Seokjin says, turning around on the heels of his feet to go back to the warmth of the castle.

“That’s too bad, because I have things to say.”

That makes Seokjin stop in his tracks. “Like what?” You can hear the venom in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, knowing fully well that he’s listening to you. “I never actually said that before, but I’m sorry. Not for Fudge, but for betraying your trust. I know that was a really shitty thing to do, and I’m sorry.”

“Is that it?” Seokjin’s turned around now, facing you as you take a daring step closer to him.

“Nope. I’m glad I told the Headmaster about Fudge, and you should be too. You’re smart, and you knew we weren’t prepared enough to keep taking care of him as he got older. We’re still students, and have almost no experience with magical creatures outside of our classes. Watching him as the autumn months turned to winter ones was a good idea, and I’m glad we did that because it’s likely he would have died without us. Other than that, I think it was time to hand him over to the professionals. It was what was best.”

“Are you finished?”

You nod, half expecting him to say something in response, half-expecting him to turn around and leave you.

“You’re right,” Seokjin says quietly, and you probably wouldn’t have heard him if it weren’t for the silence of the night. “I was too ambitious.”

You take a step closer, or maybe he moves towards you, but you’re face-to-face now.

“I thought I could just keep caring for him as he got older, but I couldn’t. It was dumb of me to think otherwise,” Seokjin admits, and it’s nice to finally hear him say it. “But I’m not avoiding you because of that.”

“Why are you avoiding me, then?” You ask, surprised.

“I thought we had something, you know,” Seokjin says, and it’s clear that he wishes the two of you still did. “Taking care of Fudge, spending all this time together, having butterbeer drinking contests. I thought we were something.”

“And?”

“And?” Seokjin asks. “And you broke your promise. You betrayed me. How can you still care for me if you did something like that?”

That leaves you in stunned silence as the words settle in, like dust after a storm. Seokjin has nothing else to say either, and you wonder what thoughts must be racing through his head. You wonder if they are the same as yours.

“I still care about you,” you whisper, your warm breath visible as it hits his throat. “I never stopped.”

“What?”

“Just because I turned Fudge over doesn’t mean I wanted what we had to end. I thought you—we—would move past it,” you explain, your bodies growing ever closer. “I turned Fudge in because he wasn’t our responsibility, but I also turned him in because I didn’t want you to get in trouble. You have so much going for you. Fudge can’t be the reason why it all goes to waste.”

“You care about my future like that?” Seokjin asks, eyes soft.

“Of course,” you reply with ease. “I love you.”

The words slip out before you have the chance to stop them, but you don’t even have time to say anything afterwards anyway, not before you feel warm hands cup your cheek and lips planted firmly on yours.

Your eyes spring open to see Seokjin’s closed ones as the two of you kiss, you easily melting into the warmth that is Seokjin as the air outside freezes your fingertips. It’s not a deep kiss, and the two of you part without heaving breaths and sweaty foreheads, but your lips are red and his cheeks are pink.

“I think I love you too,” Seokjin says.

“Do you think you love me or do you just think you think you love me?” You ask, smirking a little bit.

Seokjin chuckles, his breath fanning out in front of him. “I rephrase my original statement. I know I love you.”

You beam at him, grinning from ear to ear as he holds out a hand for you to take. The two of you walk back to castle together, swinging your hands as you go. There’s no need for you to look at him. You know he only sees you.

“Yay! The couple finally got together,” Taehyung cheers as the two of you stroll into the Great Hall. “It’s been so painful watching you pine. I wanted to die. Or set the two of you up myself.”

“No need for that, Taehyung,” you laugh.

“Obviously. I assume you’ve everything sorted out, right?” Namjoon asks, an eyebrow raised. You can tell he’s pleased.

“No. We still hate each other’s guts,” Seokjin says in such a sincere manner that for a second, you think he’s telling the truth.

“Of course, my mistake,” Namjoon chuckles.

“I forbid the two of you to be sappy around me,” Yoongi instructs. “I already have to deal with Mr. I Fall In Love With Pretty Butterflies over here,” he says, motioning to Hoseok.

“Listen,” Hoseok says, affronted.

“Oh! I have a surprise for you,” you remember, grabbing Seokjin’s hand.

“Seriously? We just sat down,” Seokjin says in disbelief as you drag him out of his seat. “I wanted food.”

“It can wait. I want to show you something.”

Seokjin huffs. “This better be worth it.”

You lead him down the hallway and outside, to the grounds where the third-years are currently in their Care of Magical Creatures class. Seokjin looks particularly disgruntled the entire way there, having to be dragged rather than brought to the damn class.

“What do you have to show me from the third-years?” Seokjin asks, confused.

“Oh, just a little something,” you shrug like it’s no big deal.

You bring him closer to the class, waving to the Professor as he instructs his third years about the animal of the lesson. He smiles back and nods, letting the two of you continue to traipse through the grounds.

“What is this?”

“A gift. A post-Christmas gift.”

“What?”

As the two of you reach the bottom of the hill, a little hippogriff comes into view.

⇒ leave any feedback/requests here and check out my masterlist here!

[viasatellite]

title: Nude summary: All she really wanted was for her to be his muse. InoSai. Oneshot. AU. notes: Hello ya’ll! And so, I’m in Japan now working as an ALT under the JET Programme, and I’m back here. Kind of. This was supposed to be M-rated but the rust beneath my fingertips is just too much, I had to write it out first. So this is the watered-down version. I didn’t have the energy to go beyond the confines of my T-rated imagination. Bah.

----

"Consider my offer."

Ino said with gentle force, resting her daintily manicured fingers on his arm, which was currently working miracles on a canvas.

She had a lot to offer, and she made sure he knew. And his repulsion against her was probably his response. Still, she wanted him to consider at least this offer – the purest and ironically, the most artless form of offering him her everything.

(She would want to express herself in more artistic and inventive ways, but she doubted he would ever let her.)

Sai briefly looked at her before training his eyes again on his current masterpiece.

"Why me? I'm not interested."

She anticipated that – his words, his dead-flat tone, and that stony smile. She'd only known him for five months, having been in the same Art course at one of the most esteemed art universities in Tokyo, but she felt like he'd been the muse who had been unknown to her until she saw him walk into the room the first day.

Her first output was entitled "Like a Moth to the Flame" and his, "It Burns and Burns." They both got recognition from their professor and their colleagues, but she didn't care. All she asked for was his recognition, but he didn't even ask for her name.

And so, she made the first move and chased him around like the happy moth that she had willingly blossomed into. And he would always be the flames that burn so cruelly.

She ran her finger along his arm, and he twitched in shock, dropping the fine paintbrush and giving her – she wasn't surprised – a glare in depths of black.

"But I'm interested in you," she remarked coolly, undeterred by his characteristic displays of disinterest bordering disgust towards her being.

He stood and walked meters from her. "That's not my problem anymore."

The laugh that soon followed echoed in the room, and she was yet again bestowed by one of his precious glares.

She winked at him and smirked. "I'll make it your problem."

…

They had their life drawing class, and as always, Sai was commended for his reclining nude masterpiece. Even the model whom she noticed had the same shade of hair color as hers became excessively delighted by his output she had asked him if they could have a collaborative project soon. Sai replied with a polite "We'll see" and, this time, a less stony smile.

And suddenly, Ino was fuming. Right after everyone had shuffled out of the room, she launched herself onto him and pushed him until he had his back against the wall. She trapped him with her hands planted on his sides, and even though he was a bit taller than she was that she had to tip her head up to look at him, she made sure not to back down.

"I've been asking you for five fucking months to work with me and it only took that gal like 5 minutes to have you say yes. First come, first served, darling," she said with honeyed sarcasm.

"Have your ears checked. I never said yes."

He didn't even bother looking at her. He was just talking right above her head.

Somehow this ticked Ino off more, so she tiptoed so she could be at level with his gaze. She made sure he knew that she was also sinfully tracing his perfectly sculpted lips with her eyes.

"Then say yes to me now," she let out in a mere whisper, thrilled by the fact that she was almost breathing the same inch of air as him.

He sighed. The very first sigh he made in front of and in reaction to her. "What you want isn't a collaborative project."

"But I wo—"

"You want to be the model."

"Yes, I want to be drawn by you," she insisted.

"Art isn't born out of such selfish desires."

He released one more breath and gently pried her off him.

"I'm not being selfish!"

Her fists clenched at her sides, and she could feel her eyes burning. She didn't know why. But it deeply upset her to have been called selfish by the very person she was trying to earn respect from.

"That kind of project requires a different level of intimacy between the artist and the subject, and we both know you want. . ." he scoffed and had that stony smile once more, "no, you pine for an intimacy incompatible with the art I'm making, the cheapest kind of intimacy there is."

Ino stood there, paralyzed and sinking at the same time. She couldn't believe that he had just told her the most insensitive words an artist and woman could hear. Hadn't she progressed from being just a random stranger to at least being an acquaintance to him in those five fucking months that as he so cavalierly put it she had pined for him? If she were at least a mere acquaintance, he wouldn't have the heart to say those to her.

But she stood her ground and looked at him despite the burning. Oh, he sure burned her so well and cruelly.

"If you would just let me, I would draw you. As the artist, I choose you. To be the subject of my canvas, to be the object of my artistry. I pine for you just like an artist would for a subject worthy of his time and art. I pine for you because you are my muse. And if it so happened that I also have feelings beyond that, I don't think it's any different from what you're calling pure intimacy. I pine for you in more ways than one."

She looked at him hard before making the first move this time to leave.

…

She probably should've thought a gazillion times more if she'd thought he'd ever miss her. Because he didn't, and it had been two weeks since their last encounter. She was waiting for him to make the first move this time, to apologize, to beg her to come back, to give him a second chance, but it was probably the unrefined artist in her that was giving her such ridiculous imaginings.

So, during their classes that his back was the only thing she was allowed to see of him, she would find a way to incorporate painting that into the figures required for a session so much so her outputs would appear grotesque and chromatically chaotic. But to her, they were still art. Anything with him in it would always be sublime art for her.

The workshop for the session ended, and she had received once more lots of questions about her recent work. Why is there a sharp contrast in the palette that you used? Is that the back of a person fused with a deer? It looks very postmodern except that I don't know which style, is it though?

As usual, he would receive the most palatable and sensible critiques. She didn't even bother what he had painted. It wasn't like he had been interested in any of her paintings anyway. Fair enough.

She was cleaning up her workplace when he passed by her and gave a remark that teased her to hope again.

"I don't think my back goes well with a deer. Try a crow instead."

It was all too fast, and she didn't see his face anymore, but she knew, by familiarity, that he was smiling. Maybe just less stony this time. She packed up her things quickly and made a beeline for the door.

…

She wasn't able to follow him, but it wasn't like she couldn't go to his apartment. So, she did. The first time she showed up at his doorstep, he made the most expressionlessly expressive face there ever was she wanted to commit it to her canvas. But out of pure courtesy, she just let it sit on her mind. She was an artist and a harmless stalker on the side. She was glad though that every time she rang his doorbell, even without verbally inviting her in, he'd just open the door and walk away.

Probably that was hope right there. Maybe they were at least friends.

This time, she didn't even have to ring. The door was already slightly ajar, and she just made a quick knock before going in.

She found him at his usual spot, working on yet another masterpiece.

He must've heard the click of the door and paused.

"What are you doing here? I'm busy," he said, not sparing her even a glance.

She had a beat of a laugh before stalking over to him and brazenly started massaging his shoulders. He automatically released the paintbrush and to his utter dismay, it left a careless stroke on the canvas. He hissed and knocked off her hands.

"Can't you just stay away?!" he bellowed.

But she didn't feel the sincerity.

"You left the door open, honey, so I invited myself in. Besides I did stay away for two weeks. That's enough. You must be missing me already."

He only looked at her before picking up the brush.

"Go."

She didn't move.

He pasted that stony smile of his. "Please. If you may just leave, young lady."

But she walked towards the painting instead, inspecting the damage that isn't a damage, but a beautiful accident.

"I can help you remedy this."

He narrowed his eyes on her. "I don't trust you."

"You don't need to trust me. Just acknowledge the fact that I'm an artist, too."

She smiled but frowned the next moment. "Oh, is it because I'm not of your caliber?"

Sai looked away. "No, not that."

"Then, it's a deal!" she chirped.

She took the paintbrush from his hand and painted faint, dancing lines at the tip of the unwanted stroke, and added a shadow of gray along the edges of the base.

"All done!" she chirped and turned to him, the other tip of the brush poking her cheek. "I think you're going for a calm, tranquil mood for this one so I thought to emphasize that. I hope it didn't ruin your style though?"

Sai walked over to her work and looked at it closely. This made her a bit conscious because this would be the first time that he would pay close attention to her skills. She just hoped she was worth it.

"Thank you."

"Eh?" She stared at him, flabbergasted.

"I'm entering a competition," he continued before casually getting back the brush from her and started drawing more lines.

Ino scanned her head for ideas and exclaimed when she spotted one.

"Oh, is this for the Louvre Museum thing?"

He gave her a half-glare.

"It's not just a thing."

"Of course, I know! So, when is it due? What's the theme? What's your plan?"

"This is the plan. I want to turn it in next week."

She then looked over the whole painting and felt a surge of pride that she was in love with this man who could basically do the most beautiful paintings of this era that the world would have the luck to see.

"Do you want to know what I think of it?"

He considered for a moment and nodded.

"Sugarcoated or not?"

At that question, he quirked a brow.

"…Not?"

"Okay! Then I must say that it's amazing!"

He shook his head, and if it wasn't only uncharacteristic of him, she knew he probably would've also rolled his eyes at her. "You're never serious, are you?"

"Oh, but I am! About this painting and about you!"

She flashed him a big smile and waited for his response. She technically just confessed.

But it seemed like he had decided to avoid the topic.

"If I'd picked sugarcoated, what would you have said?"

"I would've told you that it's an incredibly amazing masterpiece!"

"You're nuts," he deadpanned.

"Yes! And Sai, I'm absolutely crazy for you. I know you know that."

She walked closer to him, holding his gaze, trying to fathom what he was thinking.

But Sai only turned back to his canvas.

"I have to finish this. There's only a few days left."

Somehow, his indifference didn't pain her so much anymore, so she decided to give him the space he needed for now.

"Okay. I'll be leaving then. I'll see you on Monday!"

She headed for the door immediately, not wanting to wait for a reaction that would probably never come.

…

But they no longer had the chance to talk because he had been busy with the preparation and taken a 3-day leave from their classes. All their professors were in full support of him, so they willingly gave him the permission to take that much-needed leave. They all knew he would win it out.

But the week after, results came in, and when she learned that Sai didn't make it to the shortlist, she quickly hurried out of her ongoing class and came running to his apartment.

Fortunately, Sai was just about to enter his unit.

"Sai!" she called, panting, from the end of the hall.

He only looked at her impassively before entering, and before he could lock the door, she made sure she would be able to make it inside as well.

Surprisingly, there wasn't a struggle on his side, and she could go in as peacefully as possible.

Instead of sitting in front of his canvas, he proceeded to his sofa and capped off a bottle of soda, chugging it down before fixing her one of those cold and calculating stares.

"I'm not sad nor upset, if that's what you came for. I'm just tired from all the painting I did the past few days."

"I'm sorry," she started, and the dam broke. "I'm really sorry. It must've been that stroke. If I didn't surprise you that time, we wouldn't have to fix it. It might've looked like a blemish to the – "

"Don't say that. It sounds like you're underestimating my capabilities. Even if that was considered a flaw, they wouldn't have noticed it if everything else was perfect. So, you saying that it might be because of that flaw is like saying I didn't do everything else perfectly."

His words were razor sharp, but she knew that he was right.

"I'm sorry. I'm still sorry."

And she couldn't help crying helplessly in front of him.

She felt him pass by her before hearing his voice.

"Let's paint something together."

She looked at him surprised, teary eyed and all.

"You want to cheer me up, don't you?"

It took seconds to process what he said, but she was able to give a hearty yes just as quickly. She happily wiped away her tears and sat beside Sai, taking the brush he was offering her.

"You may call this a collaborative project. What do you want to paint?"

She wasn't listening to his words anymore; she was just looking at him, admiring him more, and thinking that his side profile was his best angle. She dipped her brush into a can of blue paint and did a swift stroke across his cheek.

He snapped his head to her direction, and she giggled as she did a similar stroke on his forehead. And the next thing she knew, Sai had also had the tip of his brush heavy with yellow and ready to have his revenge. She stood abruptly and raced across the room to get away as fast as possible from the assaulting brush. But Sai wasn't one to be defeated and chased her nonstop.

Over the course of their game, they had acquired numerous streaks on their faces, arms, clothes, and even hair. Seeing a dash of yellow on Sai's ebony hair was a wondrous sight for Ino, and she couldn't help pointing it out as she giggled unceasingly.

"I'd volunteer dyeing your hair with yellow streaks if you'd let me."

"The blue paint looks good on your hair, too. It matches the color of your eyes," he said, in turn, earnestly.

She managed to hold back her next fit of giggles to focus on what he had just said.

"You like my eyes."

"The color."

"Then draw me," she challenged.

He shook his head. "You don't look like a nude model to me."

Her brows furrowed in question. Was that an insult?

"What does that mean?"

Before she knew what was happening, he was leaning in, and it didn't take long before she felt his lips on hers like wisps touching her skin..

She kissed him back with more force and felt his fingertips trace patterns across her cheeks and arms. As the kiss grew heated, she couldn't help wondering how such cruel flame could burn her so wonderfully. His lips then found a spot below her ear, and just before claiming her, he heard him whisper. Beautiful. It was like making art; only that in that moment, they weren't artists.

In the afterglow, she wondered if it was making love as well when they weren't lovers either.

Sai was fast asleep on his side of the bed, and she was yet again met with the sight of his back. But this time the view was unhindered by fabric. This was raw and real, and she could only touch it and snuggle up to him, skin to skin. She still couldn't believe she was here, close to him, closer than before.

But still not appreciably close because the next morning she found herself alone in the bed. She didn't make an effort to look for him because she'd learned her lesson hard.

…

What she didn't see coming though was his avoiding her after everything that happened. The first day after they slept together, she could understand. He was probably shy or confused or waiting for the right moment, but a week had passed, and he was back to being distant. He acted as if she vanished into thin air and he never knew her.

That hurt more than the physicality of giving him her first. But she had no regrets. It would've always been for him.

She decided to let him be for some more time. When the next week arrived, he was nowhere in sight. She was contemplating ambushing him in his apartment when their professor announced that someone from their class got a scholarship abroad at Louvre University.

She didn't bother listening who.

…

She read in the news that an art exhibit was soon to be open to the public in a matter of days. Apparently, it would hold paintings by artists from all over the world, and there was a great chance that his paintings would be there. She knew he'd gained worldwide recognition over the years of his scholarship at that prestigious university in Paris, and she knew he'd probably forgotten about her, too.

A year after he left for Paris, she decided to take a different direction, but not too different because it still included drawing, and she would still work on a few projects on a canvas from time to time. Most of the time, they were about him. She went for Fashion Designing at a sister school of her previous one. It delayed her for a year, but she was happy and fulfilled that she was able to get everything under control again despite his leaving. It ruined her.

But it did beautifully. She couldn't even fault him for simply leaving without telling her goodbye. She would've never wanted him to. He left her with such a beautiful memory, and it was enough. He would always be her muse, the one she'd always pine for, and never have.

She had to think twice before going to the museum, but when she saw from the list that paintings of famous painters would be featured as well, she gave it a try. The venue was a large pavilion whose inside was structured like a museum with compartmentalizing walls separating off one corner from the other. Some artists were also there, and she actually would've wanted to brush shoulders with Saville if not for the long queue of people awaiting at her table.

Her feet then led her to a small crowd gathered around a large painting. When she caught a glimpse of it, she had to excuse her way through the circle just to get a better look at it.

In the painting was a woman turned to her side of the bed so that her back was the only visible profile to the viewers. White sheets pooled around her, covering the lower half of her body while her hair blanketed the upper. It was a very simple representation, but the hair and the scene and the sheets –

"I never thought I'd ever see your hair down again."

She whipped around to see him just inches behind her, with that smile of his, probably the least stony smile he'd ever given her, and his eyes finally seeing her.

"And I never thought I'd see your cold smile ever again, you idiot."

And when she laughed, it sounded shaky and spent, but hopeful.

...

Fin.

[fountainpenguin]

Haha, I’ve been picking at this for months and finally got it finished! My girl <3 

This is labeled Kima Ref 2017 in my files, and now it’s October, ahaha... I blame my slowness on the fact that my Riddle side kept coming out because drawing this was work and we know how Riddle feels about Kima. My Kima side came out when I started getting into it, and that made it easier. Teamwork.

For comparison if you’re curious, her old ref sheet can be found HERE.

Yakima “Kima” Redweed is the chirpy, persnickety little gal I like to use to represent myself to you guys. This has been going on since I was young and had no ability whatsoever to draw humans, and because all the cool kids had fursonas. I study animal behavior and I love animals, so I just never outgrew having one and I love her. However, I do have a human sona as well: Ritt.

Despite the brown coloring, which comes from my hair, her design is mainly inspired by the emperor penguin- specifically a baby one, and so she’s still very short and fluffy and hasn’t come into her adult feathers or facial colors yet. Don’t expect to see those for awhile. Look, I’m doing my best over here.

Her anatomy is a constant work in progress. Yay, stylistic anthropomorphization!

Kima got her degree in Sona Studies from Hubhouse Yellow University, scoring straight As in every class except for one: “Acute Presentation: Convincing the World that You Are Your Patron”. The reason for this is because she suffers from constant self-awareness syndrome, and is prone to breaking character and cracking up during tense situations. It’s almost cost her her fursona license numerous times, but somehow she always pulls through. You’ll know when she breaks character because her eyes will turn from gold to green. She’s off the clock when her eyes are green.

She took over from Riddle as my fursona (feathersona?) on March 1st, 2015. Her official job title is Alpha Avatar, and her duties include maintaining the stability of the Heaven Control Tower in the Yellow 910107 Subset, and hunting down Rudy after he stole the Golden Quill, relying on lesser avatars to do her dirty work and communicating with them via a device called the tipper, as we saw in “The First of Franny’s 62 Plane Rides” and “Car Go Vroom Vroom!”

And, she has to manage everything despite being sealed inside the tower alone with only one apparent way out: Turning her position over to Riddle again. As of, “The Microwave of the Gods is Forbidden”, Riddle continues to prowl the edge of her defenses, looking for any opportunity she slips up being in sync with me and he can dethrone her, since he was created specifically to be my sona and I never gave him any other motivations, life, or family for him to move on to.

As an author’s alpha avatar, Kima has the ability to split her awareness between all the worlds I’ve created and work in. Except, her colors don’t carry over, so she always manifests as stark gold, like we saw in “The Devil Went Down to London”. In that state, she can’t touch any characters without vaporizing them, and she’s not exactly subtle since she glows. She solves this problem by claiming avatars, like Franny. You can always recognize the avatars because they all have the letters A-FP scarred on their right hand, and because people bleed black instead of red when an active avatar comes too close. If you haven’t guessed, the letters stand for “Author - FountainPenguin”. If any of you know me as ForbiddenParallelepiped, they also stand for ForbiddenParallelepiped.

Kima’s other abilities include taking on the physical characteristics of her patron (whether that means sickness or hygiene), being able to bend her arms in both directions, squirting ink from her beak like she does in my blog header, and being able to do The Glow at will. Since she was born in Heaven, she’s also an immortal. A muse of energy, to be precise, as opposed to Riddle being a muse of work. She doesn’t like not having things to do. Busy, busy worker bee.

So that’s Kima! Cheerful but snarky with a long history of referring to people as “walnuts” when she thinks they’re knuckleheads. Her archetype is basically “friendly egomaniac”. If you think she’s a savage penguin, you should see what she didn’t say. And although most of you probably know this, I do like being addressed as Riddle on this blog, though Fountain is equally acceptable. The name Kima refers specifically to my sona herself.

Good, now I don’t have to draw her a new reference sheet until she’s married. Then she’s gonna grow up on me, I guess...

[specialagentfluffstein]

Excuse you. I believe I asked for numbers and things. 😁

You did! I’ve been busy with homework, so I’m just now seeing this. Here’s all the numbers. (which I believe your last message asked for)

1. selfie -from this summer. 

2. what would you name your future kids? Samantha for a girl, Michael for a boy.

3. do you miss anyone? I miss seeing one of the Officers I work with. He moved to detectives, so now I only see him once in a blue moon.

4. what are you looking forward to? Graduation! Two months and then I’ll have my bachelors!

5. is there anyone who can always make you smile? The same officer that moved to detectives. He’s really nice, and always greets me by name.

6. is it hard for you to get over someone? Not really. 

7. what was your life like last year? Less good than it is now, but still pretty okay.

8. have you ever cried because you were so annoyed? Yes. More than I care to admit.

9. who did you last see in person? My sister.

10. are you good at hiding your feelings? Apparently I’m too good. 

11. are you listening to music right now? Yes, Echo and the Bunnymen.

12. what is something you want right now? Another cup of coffee. 

13. how do you feel right now? Pretty okay. 

14. when was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you? Last Sunday.

15. personality description- woo boy. I’m really loud. And I’m pretty straightforward. I think I’m funny. 

16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t? Yup. 

17. opinion on insecurities. My own? illogical wastes of time. Others’? reasons to build people up and remind them that they are special. 

18. do you miss how things were a year ago? In some ways yes, but in others no.

19. have you ever been to New York? nope. I’d like to though.

20. what is your favourite song at the moment? Josh Ritter’s “Showboat” and The Veils’ “Axolotl (Roadhouse Mix)”

21. age and birthday? I just turned 20 last month.

22. description of crush. Taller than me, reddish bond hair, blue eyes. He grew a beard that I’m not particularly fond of, but he’ still really cute.  

23. fear(s) - Being useless. 

24. height - 5′2″

25. role model - David Bowie. Not the drugs and other exploits, but the being yourself and being okay changing your mind bit.

26. idol(s) -One of the officers I worked with for a while who was both a damn fine cop and a flight medic. He now works for the local fire department.               

27. things i hate - Ignorance and incompetence.

28. I’ll love you if - you are kind to me, and don’t treat me like I’m a pretty paperweight.

29. favourite film(s) - S.W.A.T. and The Princess and the Frog (the Disney one)

30. favourite tv show(s) - I love Stargate Sg-1 and Adam-12. Also Gotham.

31. 3 random facts - I’m a Police Explorer Lieutenant; I am taking a creative writing class; I really like jazz.

32. are your friends mainly girls or guys? I’ve got a pretty good balance of both right now.

33. something you want to learn - I’d like to learn how to ride a motorcycle. 

34. most embarrassing moment - I fucked up majorly on the radio a while back, and a few of the officers still haven’t let me live it down. 

35. favourite subject - I’m really enjoying my Military Law class this semester.

36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill? SWAT Medic, published writer, visit every Disney Park.

37. favourite actor/actress - Actor - Colin Farrell; Actress - Gal Gadot. 

38. favourite comedian(s) - Louis C.K. is pretty funny. 

39. favourite sport(s) - College basketball. Go Zags!!!!

40. favourite memory - getting to play the final hostage for a SWAT training exercise. Or anytime I went to the movies with my late grandfather. 

41. relationship status - Single because apparently I’m “scary.”

42. favourite book(s) - East of Eden and One Bullet Away.

43. favourite song ever - Chantilly Lace by The Big Bopper.

44. age you get mistaken for - lately people think I’m sixteen. 

45. how you found out about your idol - On a call, where he mentioned he was a flight medic to some strung out dude, who was pretty sure he was dying. “I’m a flight medic. You’re not dying,” were his exact words. 

46. what my last text message says “Nice! Good good guard dog right there.” 

47. turn ons - a nice smile.

48. turn offs - “I hate cops.”

49. where i want to be right now - Disneyland. All the halloween stuff is up. 

50. favourite picture of your idol - don’t have a picture of idol no. 1, so please accept this drawing of a devil dog I did. Quite a few of the people I have a lot of respect for are Marines. 

51. starsign - virgo

52. something i’m talented at - Knitting. And remembering weird fun facts.

53. 5 things that make me happy - Swing shift ride alongs; food; cheesy action movies; alpaca yarn; listening to records.

54. something thats worrying me at the moment - whether or not the story I’m working on is any good. it’s a bit of an experiment.

55. tumblr friends - damnit-rabbit, car-one-responding, and some peeps from school.

56. favourite food(s) - Pizza and sushi.

57. favourite animal(s) - dogs! and pretty much anything floofy besides cats and horses, because I am allergic to those. 

58. description of my best friend  - super nice, and definitely a little wild. 

59. why i joined tumblr - my sister coerced me.

60. ask me anything you want - Am I supposed to ask you? or were you supposed to ask? I don’t know. 

[muellerewald-blog]

[Admin Note]:

I’ve been so excited to post this guest blog article from a couple of backpackers in Africa! It’s written by the founders of Mzungu Backpackers which is a seriously awesome platform for backpackers in Africa. The founders are Gal Zanir and Ziv Oriol, both 26-year-old students from Israel. 

Gal travelled for 10 month in 2015, from Ethiopia down to South Africa. Most of the time he was solo and some of it was with other travelers he met along the way. And Ziv went with his wife, Hadas, for 6 months from Uganda to South Africa, ending in 2016.

1.Tell me about Mzungu Backpackers. What is it and why did you start it?

Mzungu Backpackers is a project we started together almost 3 years ago. We both traveled in Africa separately, fell in love with this beautiful and colorful continent and wanted more people to experience it the way that we did.

The idea for “Mzungu- Backpacking Africa” community was all about having a place where backpackers in Africa can connect with each other, share recommendations freely while supporting local businesses, and to make a positive impact on how people travel this continent.

In Israel, we have a monthly meeting with backpackers heading to Africa. Amongst other things we talk about the harms of short-term volunteering, treating local people with respect and travelling in a way that helps the local communities thrive.

This is Gal, Israeli backpacker & co-founder of Mzungu, in Uganda.

2. What made you choose Africa? And if you’ve traveled other places (ex. Southeast Asia, Europe, etc), how would you compare it?

(Gal) After comparing a lot with friends who traveled in other places, we have come to realize that what makes Africa so special are the PEOPLE.

Travelling here summons adventures that you can’t even imagine – one night a lady on the bus kept asking me questions and didn’t let me rest, and the next morning I found myself being a guest on her radio show broadcasting live to a million Ugandans!

3. For Gal – did you feel safe traveling alone? Did you feel lonely going by yourself? How did you meet people?

Well, I always get this question when I am telling people I traveled Africa on my own. But, “On my own” doesn’t necessarily means ‘alone’. In fact, I was never alone. I always found myself surrounded either by fellow backpackers in Africa from all around the world, spending days and nights together, getting to know many new friends, or either with local people, getting to know many of them so good that we are still friends today 3 years later.

Anyway, if traveling on your own was a bit complicated 3 years ago, now, that the “Mzungu- Backpack Africa, Together” website is up on the air- it is all much more simple! There are WhatsApp groups for each country where you can coordinate and meet new friends from around the world anytime you’d like and many more tools for forming this real community feeling between fellow travelers.

Cutest kids evverrr! Gal took this pic in Uganda.

4. What would you say to a girl wanting to travel to Africa alone?

(Ziv) Over the past 3 years we have seen and been in contact with many girls who went on a solo trip to Africa. As a girl, it is definitely possible, and recommended!

Regarding safety, obviously normal precaution measures should be taken, but nothing more than I would tell a girl travelling alone to Europe. Also, with the Backpackers’ community, it’s easier than ever to find a travel companion when you get tired of being solo. Some of the community’s girl backpackers even wrote articles you can find on the website about the feeling of traveling as a girl in Africa as this is quite a popular question that we get a lot.

5. For Ziv, what was it like backpacking with your wife? What are your tips for other married couples wanting to backpack Africa?

(Ziv) We saw many couples on our trip so it really felt like the easy choice. I think there is somewhat of a comfort in always having a partner and I would recommend it to anyone in a relationship. However, it is worth mentioning that it’s not for everyone – if you are looking for luxurious suites and high class dining, maybe you should find somewhere else to go, but if you are looking for a trip where every day is an adventure – this is your destination.

Ziv & his wife, Hadas, at Victoria Falls. (Anyone else think it’s amazing how close you can get to the falls?!)

6. What was your favorite thing that you packed? Or what’s the top gear you recommend other backpackers to buy before coming?

(Ziv) I think I would have to go with the backpack itself. During the trip the backpack becomes your home, and it’s meaningful to you much more than the few shirts it contains. We travelled with a tent, sleeping mattresses, and cooking gear – on that matter I would say its very fun to have and it could save some money on lodging, but it is not a “must have”, you can travel light and find anything you need.

(Gal) I would have to go with my Ukulele. If I would need to share a tip of something to take along with you to a long trip it would be a music instrument. I did not know how to play the Ukulele before my African adventure, but being on a long trip with a new instrument leaves you much time and opportunity to learn how to play it! My Ukulele now is one of my favorite instruments as it even has a drawing of a meaningful memory from each country along the way.

7. There is a myth that Africa is really expensive to travel… what do you think?

(Ziv) As a couple, we spent around 1100$ a month on average, including everything – Car rental in Namibia, safari in Tanzania and many other expensive things. Some of the popular tourist attractions are extremely overpriced, but that is not your “Every day” life on the trip. On the day to day life, if you eat, lodge and use public transportation like locals do, your expenses are at a minimum.

(Gal) Some of the myth has began with people coming for short trips to the most expansive attractions in the continent. For instance- 2 weeks trip in Tanzania would turn out to be quite expansive if you do the Safari plus Kilimanjaro hike. But if you spread this costs over a long trip in the continent it turns out quite cheap as day to day life as a backpacker in Africa ARE ACTUALY CHEAP.

More on cost breakdown of backpacking Africa (plus ways to save money).

Namibia … gorgeous!

8. How can Mzungu Tribe help new travelers? And how can people who have traveled Africa give back to the community? (adding tips, pics, etc).

Be a part of this warm and welcoming backpackers in Africa community! You are most welcome to join us all at Mzungu.org .

Use the tip-maps when you travel and add cool new places for others to enjoy.

Use the community WhatsApp and Facebook groups to meet new friends and discover new ways of traveling this beautiful continent, ask and answer questions.

Enjoy the special discount vouchers , exclusively for Mzungu community’s Backpackers– it assures you the best prices in big attractions along the way, cuts off your costs, and support local businesses.

And most important – Take care of yourself and others, have a blast discovering this colorful and vivid continent, as you invite fellow backpackers to join as well, helping the community grow!

The post 2 Backpackers in Africa Share Tips on Cost, Travel Buddies, & Backpacking Africa “solo” appeared first on Backpacking Africa for Beginners.

[iheartgod175]

Spring In His Step

As noted earlier, I have mixed feelings on Ricochet's cameo in "Yogi's Treasure Hunt". On one hand, I was happy that he showed up in it at all (sadly, Droop didn't get a cameo in it) and got to work with Snooper and Blabber—I would've freaked if he'd worked with Quick Draw McGraw, but I was happy with what we got. But on the other hand, his character on that cameo was just weird; he does way more than spam his "PING-PING-PING" catchphrase everywhere he goes. After that, I decided to write a redux of that scene, which I think is truer to his character.

This is also my first time ever writing Snooper and Blabber. Normally when I write H-B characters I try to capture their unique accents, but I barely watch Snooper and Blabber even though I like them both (Snooper is awesome, and Blabber is adorable as heck), so I have them talking normally in here. I just hope I stayed true to their characters.  

Enjoy! 

"Say, Snoop," Blabber started as they headed up the steps to the FBI's secret headquarters. Well, technically, it wasn't secret at all—the neon signs flashing  "Open 24 Hours" and "FBI Secret HQ" could've been spotted from miles away. "What do you think the special agent's gonna be like?"

"Who can say, Blab?" Snooper answered, opening the door for his small assistant and heading into the office. "Hopefully we don’g get a stutterin’ nervous wreck like the last one."

"This 'Ricochet Rabbit' guy sounds like he's kinda hyper, Snoop," Blabber said. 

"Hyper? Ya can't afford to be hyper in the FBI, Blab. Betcha that’s probably his nickname on the job. Trust me, he's probably gonna be all business-like when we go in and meet him," Snooper said.  

After wandering down the hall for a few seconds, they found themselves in front of Ricochet Rabbit's office. "Here we are, Blab." Snooper knocked on the door three times, then waited for an answer.

"Come in!" someone called from inside. "I'll be with ya in a sec!"

Snooper and Blabber made their way inside. The room was a light green, with yellow-orange tiled flooring. Brown file cabinets were lined on all sides of the room, some of them overflowing with papers. Standing on a footstool in front of one of them was a white-furred rabbit with a purple hat and a black shirt as well as a brown belt, even though he didn't have any pants. He was placing some files in the top drawer of the file cabinet.

"Are you Special Agent Ricochet?" Snooper asked.

The rabbit turned towards Snooper, and his yellow eyes brightened as a friendly smile came onto his face. "Yep, that's me!" He shut the drawer, followed by shooting off the stepladder.

Blabber started to tell him to look out, only to stop when he saw Ricochet bounce off the wall, the ceiling and the adjacent wall before settling before him and Snooper by his desk. He was a full head taller than Blabber, coming up to Snooper's waist—both of them had assumed he'd be shorter. The brown belt he'd been wearing was actually a gun holster, and he had a bright gold start pinned to the front of his orange-starred shirt.

"Special Agent PING-PING-PINNNGGG Ricochet Rabbit, bringin' you rapid results in roudin' up renegades, robbers an' rampant rustlers at rodeos, at your service," he introduced. Or at least, it sounded like an introduction—the beginning and the end was all they heard and the rest was meshed together. "You two must be those detectives the chief was tellin' me about. Snooper an' Blabber, right?"

For a moment, Blabber forgot to speak—he was too stunned by this to even form a response. He looked over at Snooper, who stared down at the rabbit with one eyebrow raised. He knew the cat well enough to know that he was surprised.

"Uh, right," Snooper said, finally regaining his composure. "Well, if you don't mind, Special Agent Ricochet, I'd like ta get down to business."

"But of course," Ricochet said. "Ya can use that computer I've got right over thar."

"Much obliged," Snooper said, turning on the computer. "Tune your ears to this, guys."

When a picture of the Evil Queen pulled up, Ricochet let out a small squeak. "That's the person you want me to look into? I'm amazed that my screen didn't break," he said.

Snooper sighed. "Yeah, she's not much to look at," he said. "An' you know, she's got more aliases than the Manhattan phone book."

"With a face like hers, I'm amazed those aliases held up," Ricochet mused.

Snooper couldn't help but smile at that. At least this guy had a sense of humor, unlike their last contact. He turned to Blabber. "You mind readin' him the list of aliases, Blab?"

"Sure, Snoop." Blab pulled out a purple notebook from inside his trenchcoat. "Let's see...there's Three-Lipped Louise, High-Heeled Helen, Sadie the Shady Lady-"

The book was snatched from his hand after that. Snooper glared down at his assistant. "That's not the list of aliases, Blab! That's my address book!"

"But why do you have so many dangerous ladies in-"

"Never mind that, Blab," Snooper interrupted, noticing Ricochet looking at him inquisitively. "We don't want people getting funny ideas."  

"Sorry, Snoop."

"It's alright, little fella. It was jus' a mistake," Ricochet said, giving Blabber a small, playful smile. "Every lawman's got dangerous gals in 'is address book."

"Do you have any in your address book?" Blabber asked.

Ricochet rubbed his knuckles on the front of his shirt, his smirk sly. "If I told ya about it now, ya probably wouldn't be able to sleep again," he said.  

Blabber stared at him with wide eyes, Ricochet chuckled, and Snooper cleared his throat. "As I was goin' to say," he said, "this evil queen's criminal record is definitely an LP. So we'll need Special Agent Ricochet to bring her in."

"Why, sure!" Despite his diminutive size, Ricochet attempted to stand up proud and tall. "I've brought in lots of high-class criminals back from when I was workin' as a sheriff. This should be easy."

"Well, it would be if the queen didn't have any evil magic on her," Blabber said. 

"Magic or not, that's not gonna stop me," Ricochet said. "There was never a criminal that couldn't be caught by Sheriff PING-PING-PIIIINNNGG Ricochet Rabbit!" He paused, and then chuckled. "Well, more like 'Special Agent' Ricochet now. My former deputy, Droop-a-Long Coyote, is sheriff of Hoop 'n Holler now."

"Is that so?" Snooper asked, again giving him the one-eyebrow look. He was not used to that pinging noise the rabbit made; hopefully, he wouldn’t do it all night long.  

"Yup. Now come on; I've got a car ya can use out in the garage. It's a rickety old thing, but it'll get us thar in no time," Ricochet answered, straightening his hat. "Hold on ta somethin' firm whilst I make a blue streak over thar."

Blabber grabbed onto the firmest thing he knew. "I am, Mr. Special Agent," he said, holding Snooper's waist.  

"Blab-" Snooper started, but it was then that Ricochet took off, shooting out of the room so fast that he created a gust of wind behind him that dragged Snooper  through the floor and into the wall. The whistle of wind could still be heard down the hallway, as well as loud pinging noises as Ricochet bounced off of several walls.

Blabber looked down the hall, his mouth formed into a small "o" of surprise. He looked at Snooper, who was rubbing his head from his collision with the wall. "What do you think of the Special Agent, Snoop?"

"Well, he's certainly got a spring in his step," Snooper muttered, adjusting his deerskin cap. "And I thought that name was a nickname of his."

"I think he's amazing," Blabber said, his tone filled with awe on that last word. He paused, and then looked up at the cat with a friendly smile. "But of course, he'll never be as amazing as you, Snoop."

"Blab, why didn't you say that when the agent was in here? Now nobody can hear ya!" Snooper said as he left. "Now come on. With his speed, he'll probably wonder what took us so long."

Blab stared after the cat, eyes wide with unbelief, and then he sighed. He was used to such behavior by now, but it never failed to catch him off guard. "Comin', Snoop."

In my honest opinion, I think Blabber would admire Ricochet mostly for his speed, although Snoop will always be his hero. And yeah, I expanded a little more on that "address book" of Snooper's. If it weren’t obvious Ricochet’s gonna have fun teasing Snooper mercilessly on this :P

Date Written: March 14th, 2017

[fitfuturesacad]

Harnessing your power as a freelancer

Harnessing your power as a freelancer

By Emily Herbert

How do we find the routines that light up our work?

“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.”

Will Durant

You have your Personal Training certification in your hand and you’re standing on the cusp of employment at your local gym. You understand biomechanics, you’ve poured over anatomy and physiology and you are passionate about nutrition. You love training and working out, and can’t wait to help others reach their fitness goals. You want to help people(and you also want to wear trainers all day). You’re ready to be self-employed because you have the skills and strategies in place to manage your time effectively, self-motivate, take care of your wellbeing and know when to say no. Wait, what?

self-employed

adjective

Working for oneself as a freelancer or the owner of a business rather than for an employer.

Working as a freelance fitness instructor or Personal Trainer is a juggling act that requires dedication, commitment and passion. It also requires an immense belief in the why behind what you do. Have you stepped into this field because you think you’re an expert? Because you like telling people what to do? Because it looks good on Instagram? Or are you here to make a real difference to people’s lives?

I’ve been working as a yoga and Pilates teacher for more than 18-months, in the United Kingdom, Australia, South Africa and now New Zealand. I love building relationships with my clients and helping them towards their goals. I get energy from sharing my knowledge and love of my practise, and feel inspired when people tell me how great they feel after a class. I enjoy writing creative, interesting and restorative class programs and researching sequences and movements to challenge my clients and improve strength, mobility, flexibility and confidence.

Let’s face it, it can also be exhausting.

So, how do you juggle it all? How do we make sure we are keeping healthy, writing safe and effective programmes, drum up business and have a life?

How do we keep inspired and motivated when we’re in charge of our own business?

This is when we can look at our daily habits in minute detail, and analyse where we are pumping out efficiently and organising our time most productively, and where we’re dropping the ball.

All hail the mentor

Zig Ziglar famously said:“A lot of people have gone further than they thought they could because someone else thought they could.”

It can be a lonely old world in the universe of freelancing, and it’s critical to have a sounding board and an objective pair of eyes to help keep you on track. Finding a mentor can be as simple as looking to the person you hope to be in 10-years’ time; industry professionals you admire and want to emulate. It can be nerve-wracking approaching them, but I have always operated under the adage, if you don’t ask, you won’t know. Sending a respectful introductory email may open the door to a beautiful mentoring relationship that could serve you well throughout your career. Or, they may be too busy, or already have a swathe of young people under their belt. Don’t be discouraged; simply try again. Continue to network, inquire and stay curious. Be open-hearted and look for trainers that display values similar to your own. The right person will come to you at the right time because as they say, persistence beats resistance.

Start building your habits one per cent at a time

James Clear says in his bestselling book Atomic Habits:“Too often, we convince ourselves that massive success requires massive action. Whether it’s losing weight, building a business, writing a book, winning a championship, or achieving any other goal, we put pressure on ourselves to make some earth-shattering improvement that everyone will talk about…the effects of your habits multiply as you repeat them. They seem to make little difference on any given day and yet the impact they deliver over the months and years can be enormous…time magnifies the margin between success and failure. It will multiply whatever you feed it. Good habits make time your ally. Bad habits make time your enemy.”

Some habit studies estimate that between 30-40% of our daily activity is habitual. If this is the case, surely success is then dependent on a lifetime of accumulated habits, not one hit wonders trotted out every now and then. However, weoften overlook how we can change things in small ways or tweak it slightly to get better at what we do.

“Habits are the compound interest of self-improvement,” Clear says.

“Each behaviour casts a vote on the kind of person you want to become.”

He suggests instead of setting goals, we set identities. Choose who you want to become and take steps to embody that behaviour. Want to make your bed every day? Become a tidy person. Want to run a marathon? Become a runner. And instead of whacking up your behaviour change a full 1,000 voltage and burning out after a week, try and be one per cent better, every day, by starting whatever new habits you’re wishing to instil in two-minute increments. Sustainable growth and sustainable change.

This idea can be helpful when you look at your productivity as a fitness instructor or Personal Trainer. Learning to automate rudimentary tasks such as invoicing or financial processes, while a small step every day, will make an enormous difference over your career and where you spend your time. Likewise, if you make learning a small part of your daily or weekly life, you will continue to take steps towards being the best trainer you can be. One fact or piece of knowledge alone won’t make you a genius; but when added onto a stream of learnings, it will be a fearsome toolkit for your fitness repertoire.

A life of routine

Routine is often thought of as the death of creativity, but when viewed from another angle, it can be seen as the founding star for a juicy, full life. My days used to lack routine. I would haphazardly lurch from project to project, saying yes to all in order to have something on the go. But there were no bookends to my day, no silver thread running its seams through my hours to back up my operation. I wasn’t super clear on what I was trying to achieve or where I wanted to go and always felt I was behind. Behind on class programmes, behind on emails and behind on life.

Having a routine provides the necessary markers to help you to build healthy habits. If you are wanting to get a healthy amount of sleep, you need to switch off Netflix at a certain hour and use an app to remind you of your upcoming bedtime. Waking up at the same time every day and having a set morning ritual is one of the defining features of many of the world’s most successful business owners and entrepreneurs. Waking up on time, fuelling the body with nourishing foods and getting in a workout is the way many people align their energies and get the most out of their lives – going on to have productive, result-driven days. And by making these routines a habit, you remove the decision making. Many of us are suffering from a type of burn out called ‘decision fatigue’ – where we have so many choices and decisions to make every day, we’re exhausted. By transforming something from a decision into a habit – this is the time I work out, this is the time I check my emails, this is the time I meditate – you remove will-power from the equation and you don’t have to rely on self-discipline. It’s just part of the routine!

Write your list of non-negotiables

I have always believed that no one is going to give you time; you have to make it, or take it, to get in your non-negotiables. Your non-negotiables help you work better and be better, whatever guise that takes for you. Whether it’s exercise or mindfulness or eating well or family time or sleep or drawing. I’m a sleep evangelist, and a very annoying one at that. A nine-hour kinda gal. And movement is a non-negotiable, every day. But what is my work framework and how do I create a template around my time, to squeeze the pulpy juice from my minutes? After all, time is money. How can I bank more for my buck?

Baby steps I have taken to habituate effectiveness

I’ve looked at my environment and made small tweaks to bits and pieces that help me keep my habits. Just as you wouldn’t keep chocolate in the house if you’re trying to lose weight; I’m setting up my surrounds to help me keep my routines. My meditation corner is set up so I can wake up, stumble over and go through my meditation ritual – frankincense essential oil at the ready for a sniff, a candle ready to be lit and a cushion to sit on.

I leave my phone in another room when I’m working on marketing or writing so I can’t mindlessly and compulsively check it during my working hours.

I food prep on a Sunday so I have several days’ worth of salad ready in the fridge, so I don’t have to think about lunch – or reach for something unhealthy when I’m in a rush.

Daily movement, whether it’s sweating, stretching or strengthening. And if I miss a day – no fear. As Clear says: “Never miss twice.”

Emily Herbert is a freelance writer and yoga instructor. She is also a student at Fit Futures Academy.

The post Harnessing your power as a freelancer appeared first on Fit Futures.

from https://fitfutures.co.nz/harnessing-your-power-as-a-freelancer/

[rebeccahpedersen]

The Friday Rant: Even A Broken Clock Is Right Twice A Day

TorontoRealtyBlog

When I was taking my real estate courses in 2003, an older, wiser friend of mine said, “You’re picking a baaaaaaad time to get into the business, buddy!  The market is about to crash!  What are you gonna do when prices drop fifty percent?”

The average Toronto home price is up 148% since then.

I’ve heard nothing but talk about the collapse, and the bubble, since then, and prices have done nothing but go up.

On Wednesday, BMO’s chief economists said that we’re “in a bubble,” and like many before him he may very well prove to be wrong.

Let’s look at his comments, and examine whether or not his economic fundamentals are still applicable in 2017…

Do you know the difference between theory and practice?

You should.

It’s an important one.

When I was in business school at the turn of the millennium, all I wanted was some practice.

I couldn’t stand the theory anymore.  It was all we had ever learned in school up to that point.

Half of “doing well” in high school was simply memorizing.

French?  Pfff.  That’s memorizing words for a test.

Math?  Yeah, it’s not easy, but it’s all theoretical, and as most kids lament, you’re not very likely to use trigonometry or draw parabola’s out there in the real world.

Science?  More memorizing, until you get to chemistry, then it’s just more math.

When I was in fourth year university, I took a course called “Securities Analysis.”

Call me naive, but I thought we might actually, you know, analyze some securities.

In the end, all we did, was more math; more theory.  We didn’t once open the newspaper to look at stock quotes, nor did we ever even mention “Research in Motion” or “Nortel.”

I eventually put all my theory to good use.

I remember when the first X-Box came out in December of 2001, I figured it would be a hot item, and there would be a shortage.  Simple supply and demand.

So I spent $5,000 on X-Box’s, games, controllers, et al, (ten packages at $500 per) and started hocking them to consumers around North America on a new website called “E-Bay.”

Low-and-behold, when some guy in California couldn’t get an X-Box for his kid for Christmas, he was willing to pay five-times the retail price, so long as it arrived at his doorstep before December 24th.

All my friends at school were busy memorizing for their next test…

Another parallel, to where I’m going with this today, can be found in a soliloquy by the great Robin Williams in the movie Good Will Hunting:

You’re just a kid.  Yon’t don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.  You’ve never been out of Boston.  So if I asked you about art, you could probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written.  Michelangelo; you know a lot about him.  Life’s work, political aspirations, him and the Pope, sexual orientation, the whole works, right?  But I bet you can’t tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel.  You’ve never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling.

Well folks, I think there are a lot of “experts” on the Toronto real estate market, who have never been out of Boston, and who have read a lot of art books, but have never stared up at the ceiling in the Sistine Chapel.

This occurred to me a couple weeks ago when I was having lunch with an impromptu sort of “networking group” downtown.  Just a group of guys who meet once in a while to chat.

One of the gentlemen is, as you may have guessed, an economist.

I sat across the table from him, and knowing I was a real estate agent, we never really met eyes.  I felt like he was gearing up for something, and eventually, he let loose with his thoughts on the Toronto market.

It was the same stuff we’ve been hearing for a decade; same stats, same metrics, same rhetoric.

I heard him out, and I gave him his fair shot to talk.

And when I didn’t really offer anything in response, he was somewhat surprised.

We continued chatting, and at one point I mentioned that I had recently lost an offer on a townhouse where there were double-digit bids, on Carr Street.

He then said, “Where’s that?”

I couldn’t believe it.

In my mind, I can picture every nook and cranny of the Carr Street townhouse complex.  I know it like the back of my hand.

I said, “You’re not exactly Google Maps are you,” and he went on the offensive.

“I don’t need to know real estate, to know about real estate,” he said.

“And if I told you I had a loft listing coming up at the Robert Watson Lofts on Sorauren Avenue next week, and it’s going to get double-digit bids, what would you say to that?” I asked him, not looking for a confrontation, but rather some clarification.

Proud as could be, he told me, “I don’t have the faintest idea where that is.”

And that’s when I realized that so many of these “expert” economists are simply looking at the market in theory, and they’re completely out of practice.

On Wednesday, BMO’s chief economist, Douglas Porter, gave us the following quote:

“Everyone may have a slightly different definition of what a bubble is, but most can agree it’s when prices become dangerously detached from economic fundamentals and start rising strongly simply because people believe they will keep rising strongly, encouraging more buying.”

Now I’m not going to slag this guy.  He’s doing his job.  And he’s been around.

You can Google him and check out his LinkedIn profile.  Welcome to 2017.

He has a Masters in Economics.  That’s impressive, and he’s probably incredibly intelligent, far smarter than I am, and having risen to chief economist at BMO, he’s a rockstar in that profession.

But does he know where the Robert Watson Lofts are?

And does he know that last night, there were 28 bids on a 1-bed-plus-den, 1-bath condo at 75 Portland Street?  Does he know where Portland Street is?  Does he know the demographic of the area?

I want to break down two parts of that quote, and tell you why I think economists are looking at our market the wrong way.

The first part is about “economic fundamentals.”

I honestly do believe that in 2017, and in this market, the “economic fundamentals” are misplaced.

There are two measures, and two so-called economic fundamentals in particular, that I speak of.

The first, is “debt-to-income ratio.”

Canada’s debt-to-income ratio is floating somewhere around 170%, give or take.

That means, on average, for every $1 Canadians make, they owe $1.70.

But to use this metric to suggest a real estate collapse is near, is completely misguided.

Why?

Because it doesn’t come in two ratios: one for home-owners, and one for non-home owners.

Excuse the generalizations here, folks.  But the guy making $2,000,000 per year and owning a house in Rosedale doesn’t have $3,400,000 in personal debt.

In fact, the guy-and-gal who bought a semi-detached house on Glebeholme Boulevard and make a combined $160,000 per year in income don’t have $272,000 in personal debt.

But the poor schmo with the crappy-paying job?  Yes, he has mounds of personal debt.  And he will never own a home.

To apply the overall debt-to-income ratio to the housing market, and allowing people to draw the inference that buyers of a $900,000 house, making $120,000 per year, also have $204,000 in debt is so misleading!  And that’s what I feel many experts, economists, and market bears do when they say, “Canada’s average debt-to-income ratio is 170%, this isn’t good for the real estate market.”

The second economic fundamental I want to look at is the ratio, or the comparison, of average income to average home price.

Many people have pointed out on my blog before that real estate prices should no longer be tied to incomes, and I couldn’t agree more.

It makes sense, in theory.  And there’s that word again.

But in practice, you’re assuming that buyers of Canadian real estate use Canadian income; their own Canadian income, and that’s not true in 2017 for two reasons.

1) The foreign buying in Toronto is massive.  I’ve never seen anything like it thus far in 2017.

2) Business at “The Bank of Mom & Dad” is booming.

So to look at the average Canadian salary and the average Canadian home price, and suggest that “The real estate market is unsustainable because these two averages aren’t increasing in tandem,” completely ignores the change in both society, and the world today.

This isn’t a planet, it’s a globe.

And global buyers are out all day, every day.

There’s so much money floating around the world, looking for a place to land, and much of it right now is landing in Toronto.

So when you look at how much money an average Canadian makes, how is that any way applicable when you’re not asking how many tens of millions a family from Hong Kong has to buy houses in Lawrence Park and keep them vacant for the next two decades?

And how many 60-something year-olds lament, “My child can’t afford to buy a property in this market,” and then write a cheque for $100,000?

How can we look at how much money an average Canadian makes in relation to average real estate prices, without considering how much money the average buyer gets from their parents?

That whole “increase in average incomes should run in tandem with increase in average real estate prices” is an idea that made sense in the 1960’s, but in 2017, you can throw it right out the window.

The second part of Mr. Porter’s quote I want to look at is the following:  “Prices start rising strongly simply because people believe they will keep rising.”

This is known as The Greater Fool Theory, and is applicable in any market where the only reason people buy at such high prices is because they believe that prices will continue to grow even higher.

But is that the true “reason” for buying in Toronto?

Because I don’t think it is.

You might point out that I just said foreign investors were buying up property in Toronto, and as investors, they must think prices will rise.  Yes, they do.  But many of these buyers are looking for generational wealth.  They’re buying properties to set up their children’s children.  These are not flippers.  They are not fly-by-nighters.  They’re not buying hundreds of acres of farm land in Orangeville so they can build a McDonald’s drive-thru.  They’re keeping this property long term.

So yes, they think prices will continue to rise, but they’re not buying in 2017 to sell in 2019.  That is the Greater Fool Theory.

And what of the domestic buyers?

What of John & Kathy?

John & Kathy aren’t buying “because they believe prices will continue to grow higher,” but rather because they’re looking for a place to raise their family for the next 15 years before they reassess if they can move up, or move on.

Do you think that 28 bidders for that property at 75 Portland Street were looking to keep it as a really, really low-yield, cash-flow-negative, $865,000 investment property?  Or do you think they were young people, with money from their parents, looking for a place to live?

If net migration in Toronto (which is probably near an all time high both with larger immigration numbers as well as inter-Provincial migration) continues to fall well behind housing completions, then every passing year, the deficit grows larger and larger.

I just don’t know if economists and “experts” know what’s really going on out there.

I would love for them to get in the trenches, and see what it’s like.

I would love for BMO’s chief economist to pretend he’s a 27-year-old trying to carve a path in this city, and go out to look for a townhouse.  Spend some time fighting to get through the front door on a Thursday night with three other sets of buyers.  I would love for him to scour MLS, every day, looking for housing options, only to come up empty.  I would love for him to make offer, after offer, after offer, losing to other buyers who have lost before that.

I would just love to see some original thought, instead of “It’s too hot, it has to end.”

Because we’ve been hearing that for so long, that it’s lost all meaning.

And if economists are going to continue to talk about debt-to-income ratios and average incomes in relation to average real estate prices, then they may as well go home and use a VHS cassette to tape a program on Netflix…

The post The Friday Rant: Even A Broken Clock Is Right Twice A Day appeared first on Toronto Real Estate Property Sales & Investments | Toronto Realty Blog by David Fleming.

Originated from http://ift.tt/2l0exNY