#these were perspective/colour assignments for one of my classes

[skittikyu]

Family Outings

[mcenvs3000w23]

Week 5 - Reflecting on ENVS 3000 So Far

Without a specific prompt this week, I took the chance to reflect on the work I have completed for ENVS 3000 so far this semester. By completing readings and reading my peers’ blogs, I had the opportunity to broaden my perspective. As well, I reflected a little on the beginning of the podcasting process. 

Yesterday and earlier today, I had the chance to read through two blogs for the PEAR evaluations. Reading my peer’s blogs in their entirety was an interesting experience. I was able to see how others consistently approached each of the prompts with a unique perspective and thought to integrate the course content. Reading about how others in the class discuss nature interpretation has led me to think about nature interpretation in my life. 

Going into ENVS 3000, I thought of nature interpretation in a very narrow way. I thought I would mostly be learning about how to explain certain aspects of nature and why plants are distributed the way they are. After the first few weeks, and after reading my peers’ blogs, I think of nature interpretation in a much broader way. I now consider paying attention to the little things in nature and appreciating nature’s beauty as part of nature interpretation. 

One way I have noticed that I interpret nature in my daily life is by being able to tell when my snake is getting ready to shed. Based on his colouring and behaviour patterns, I can usually guess when he is about two weeks away from shedding. As well, I interpret nature regularly is appreciating the beauty of my two betta fish, Lab and Kirk. It is amazing to me that nature can produce so many colours in such a small space; the fish themselves are almost like natural pieces of art. 

My fish Lab. Unfortunately he is camera shy so all my pictures of him are a little blurry.

This is Kirk, he is a bit more of a show-off!

And finally, my favourite picture of my snake, Tribus!

Another way my perception of nature interpretation has expanded is by working on my podcast. I was not quite sure where it begin with making a nature interpretation podcast for children, but with the help of my group, we were able to decide on coyotes and their interactions with humans. I think this is an interesting topic and I am excited to dig deeper into it. While I am excited to work on the podcast, there have also been some challenges. 

A challenge my group faced while working on the podcast was trying to create an engaging podcast for 8-12-year-olds without making it too childish. The maturity difference between 8 and 12-year-olds can be significant, so my group wanted to make something that would engage the youngest and oldest of the age group. We eventually decided on presenting facts in a silly, but not too juvenile way, and discuss a real news story from Guelph. 

Something that has gone really well with my group is engagement. We were able to quickly set our first meeting and all members were present and engaged. This allowed us to form a positive relationship, which helped with planning future meetings and sharing ideas. I look forward to continuing to work with my group members on this assignment. 

Reflecting on my experience in ENVS 3000 makes me excited to see what the rest of the course brings!

[qisme]

Critical Thinking Reflections Pt 2

 Week 3:

We talked about ‘Self- management’, ‘Self- awareness’, ‘Empathy’, and ‘Relationship management’. Which aspect do you think you are strongest at, and which is something you should try to improve? Discuss with reference to today’s activities and even your Studio collaborations.

I think my strongest is self awareness and relationship management. I think these are my strongest as I have always learned to be mindful of myself and self aware of myself. For example I’m aware that I can sometimes get annoyed easily at things hence I would avoid doing things that would lead me into feeling annoyed easily. As for relationship management, I feel that I’m good at remaining friends with the people I made on the first day of something like school. I would remain in contact with them to show that I still remember them even though we might not be as close but I’d still ask about them from time to time. What I think I need to work on is self- management. I sometimes lose track of time and cannot manage myself properly. For example, when it comes to completing an assignment, I might find it a struggle to complete as I always procrastinate till the last minute. I will definitely work on this as I can’t procrastinate on assignments especially now that every week we have about 3 to 4 assignments to complete and it would be very hard to catch up if I were to continue to procrastinate.

Week 4: 

Write a second version addressing any gaps in your response and/or rethinking your perspectives. 

The activities we do in class as a group makes me understand the lesson more as ideas are exchanged and we always give each other feedback on how to improve our ideas better. During group discussions, we would all gather and brainstorm the ideas about the topic which keeps my ideas flowing and opens my mind more. I understand the design techniques that were being taught so far in all of the lessons. Generating ideas is not hard for me as there will always be references online and I can just improvise it so that it will not look like I am just copying someone else’s ideas. Moving on to my presentation skills, I have no issues presenting as I do not have fear trying to present my work. I feel that by presenting, people are able to get ideas from one another and if we think there are areas for improvement, we can give feedbacks to each other and then work to improve ourselves. I love collaborating and communicating with other people on how to go about our assignment. During these past few weeks in this course, I managed to pick up a lot of new skills such as using my senses to explore types of typography which I would not have thought about if we did not have a lesson on it. I also learn a lot of art and craft skills during craft workshop like carving an eraser and stamp it on a paper. Different aspects of art like balance, emphasis, contrast, rhythm and white space. I also use rhythm and balance during typography lessons and am able to take better pictures than before. Overall, these skills are able to be used not only for just one lesson but I can use one skill for multiple lessons.

Week 5:

1. Describe an eventful moment you have experienced in this class, bearing in mind the key ideas of the day.

An eventful moment I have experienced in this class today is working as a group to go to Bugis street to capture things that are green in colour. We were in a group of 4 and we discussed and made a decision to split into 2 so that we could really use the time to explore a lot of places in Bugis street rather than just being together and have limited time to explore the places there. We needed 20 to 30 pics with a little amount of time hence the rush. However, we managed to return to the classroom and put together the pictures with other groups in the class and create a colour board of our own. Everyone in the class played their part to take good photos of the item of the specific colour they were given by our lecturer and we shared it in the class chat so that we are able to choose our own pictures from other people to create our colour board individually.

2. Include selected images of your personal sketches, and explain them. In particular, which sketches did you like most? Which is the least? Why?

As shown in the above photos, those sketches were the only ones I like most from the 15 sketches that I did of Youtube. I just feel that these designs are unique and that youtube has not come up with these types of ideas in their logo sketches. I also feel that in the first sketch the wavy lines really are such a nice design to show the waves in volumes. As for the second sketch, I like the way the word ‘youtube’ is squashed in between by a play button on the top. Lastly, the vinyl record, it is very unique and it is an element of music which youtube can use as part of their logo.

As for these sketches above, I don't really like them as they are kind of straight forward and too basic to be a logo. The second logo looks more like spotify logo and I think these designs are too simple.

[phrontisterywordproject]

Writing Initiative 7

What have you learned about yourself doing this self-directed assignment?

Throughout this course, I got to experience working with a few mediums. I realized how much joy it brought me doing analog, rather than digital. For my 3D, I worked with toothpicks and hot glue and for my reflective I made handcrafted small books. It’s something I haven’t done in other classes and doing so, brought more of my creativity. Hands on experience is definitely more enjoyable and meaningful.

What did you find to be the most difficult aspect of your chosen assignment? Creativity? Research? Connecting design to research? Craft? Organizational skills? Time management? Something else entirely?

One thing I found difficult was time management – procrastination plays a huge part in this. Especially knowing I had the whole semester to complete all assignments, it delayed my thinking time because I am prone to procrastinate the more time I have. I ended up having to cramp things in last minute. However, it did give me enough time to think about what I wanted to do for each project.

What did you enjoy about this opportunity?

I enjoyed the freedom in choosing whatever I wanted to do. It was scary at first because there weren’t any expectations, so I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. But after discussing with my peers and prof, it made the process feel a lot better. It was a good opportunity for me to apply my knowledge of the word with my own perspectives and vision and not something I was told to do. It felt like I was doing something I really enjoyed. I also enjoyed talking with my peers every week. It helped me get a different perspective on my word and helped me improve my work. I also got to give feedback to my peers, and it was a meaningful experience seeing everyone’s work and progression each week. It motivated me to work as well!

How would you rate your performance over the course of the semester?

I’d give myself an 8/10 because there are definitely things I could improve and there is still room for more explorations, but I think I did well overall. I think went out of my way in this course to do each project. My 3D, 4D and the reflective were all so fun to work on and I believe I conveyed the conceptual meaning of my word in all my projects.

Hindsight is 20/20. What would you do differently now that you've had this opportunity to work this way?

If I had to do something differently, I would manage my time more so I could spend more time on each project. For my 2D, I would’ve made more bookmarks, or I was thinking of doing a large collage. I would’ve done something bigger. Same for my 3D, I wanted to make it bigger, and I would’ve added colour to it as well. I would’ve explored more ways to present my work and set goals to complete each one on time. I had trouble with the reflective because it took me a while to figure out what I wanted to do but now that I know, I can complete it in a timely manner. Documentation is another thing, I put it of till the end which piled up to be a lot of work in the end.

[rad-roche]

today was my birthday!! ( ᐛ )و the ceaseless march of time never stops, but that’s not what i’m here to talk about, i got gifted a copy of realistic paint studio by my family! and i thought i’d share my thoughts here

all the fun of oil painting without the carcinogenic terrors of cadmium yellow!

so i’m coming at this from somebody who

primarily uses, and will continue to use, clip studio paint

has never actually used oil paints in any significant way

absolutely TANKED high school art classes back in the day. i mean bombed. i mean nosedive. sub f tier. my teacher pulled me aside and said i should give up on art school to save the place for ‘somebody who actually has talent, you will never be good’ tier. i kept at it anyway but all that to say that there’s a classical, ‘right’ way to do these sorts of things and i’m actually not sure what that is because i’m self-taught, so if you’re in the same boat this overview might be of use to you

right out the gate this thing costs £30, if you want the ‘vip’ set (which is only £5 more than the ‘base’ set and comes with extra tools so i’d just go for it). upfront i will say, clip studio paint often goes on sale for £25 and has a wealth of tools available to it. if you have a choice, without a doubt, pick up csp. the free asset store alone is unbelievable. this thing is robust but only in certain aspects, think of it more as a very, very advanced toy

realistic paint studio has a fun feature going for it, tutorials! you know those old bob ross paintalongs? almost every tool has a reference picture and a guide that teaches you how to use it, especially for the more difficult ones like watercolours

a couple i did

the pros:

the engine that handles paint and mixing is unbelievable. it is absolutely incredible. i’ve used a lot of art programs in my time (GIMP, photoshop, krita, csp, and whatever weird little novelties i’ve found floating around like alchemy, etc) and rps feels buttery smooth. unmatched

every brush you can use comes with a demonstration of how you can use it and for what purpose

far closer to traditional mediums as far as colour and general ‘feel’ goes so if you’re looking to make the jump from traditional to drawing tablet this is a great middle ground while you get used to it

supports tilt (but very usable without it, and i’m saying that as someone who doesn’t use a tilt tablet)

buttery smooth. i’m listing it again. i cannot stress this enough

the cons:

if you’re coming to this program from photoshop/csp the QoL features you are used to are gone. the transform tool is manageable but there is no mesh transform or perspective warp. no layer modes. no multiply, no overlay, no dodge, no hue sliders, no cropping, no gradient maps, no liquify. they were not kidding when they said ‘realistic’, if you make a mistake you have to rawdog it and paint over it.

the ui is not a traditional art program ui. you click toolboxes which bring up brushes, and you select from that set, then the box drifts off-screen. you’re either going to love this or hate it. you can assign certain brushes to hotkeys under the favouriting system, but that’s very limited so expect to see that little toolbox a lot

the export feature is clunky. most apps let you export from the file menu but you have to save your work, quit, retreat to the general app management area and export from there. there is a method of exporting in the file itself, but it only lets you set up these little postable scenes. it’s cute, but this isn’t intuitive. also, and this is a real nitpick, a lot of the pre-rendered scenes offered hide the very bottom of the canvas, where your signature traditionally goes

my general thoughts are that this is a cool, interesting piece of kit! it feels a little too janky to use consistently, especially if you need a quick and easy user experience for commissions or the like, but it’s the best at what it sets out to do. certainly ‘limited’, but i wouldn’t count that as a flaw, it isn’t like you can slap a multiply layer over a real charcoal drawing and call it done. i’d argue that if you want to improve, and you want to improve very quickly at that, you’re going to struggle to find a better digital medium to work in. you won’t be tempted to use shortcuts because they’ve been slapped out of your hands. you can’t liquify tool your way out of this one, me. i’m looking forward to sharing more studies and, when i think i’ve got a half-decent handle on it, lavishly painted sad old men

[writingwithcolor]

Hello, I am a Black girl writing a story with a predominantly Black group that revolves around magic and royalty. The story is dual perspective, and while one of the narrators is Black, the other is South Asian, specifically of Indian descent.

As I make up this new system of magic and mythology, I'm worried that I'm erasing the culture of the character. I wanted to ask if me creating this new culture and history will make my brown characters seem more like decoration instead of people with their own backgrounds, or if I'm just overthinking it and I should continue writing with this system.

Note: In the mythology, the land and the people on it were created from clay which is why a majority of them are brown (complexion wise). The group later discovers things that put their religion question, but overall these beliefs play a big role in the story.

Black and Indian characters, people compared to clay and and newly created magical history & mythology

I really don’t think it’s a good idea for these people to be brown because they’re made of clay, or any type of dirt. In South Asian cultures, shadeism and the implication that someone is brown, or dark skinned, because they’re dirty, or of dirt, has deep ties to classism, casteism, and the oppression of Adivasi people.

- SK

Agreed with Mod SK about the clay thing. From my personal experience, this is a comparison which is extremely prevalent within South Asian communities due to deeply entrenched beauty norms, dating back to imperialist-typical racism in the British legislation and even pre-colonial decades. Refer to: my school dance teacher worrying aloud about putting me in the front line during a recital because my "rong" (complexion) was not "porishkar" ("clean"; as in, fair or light). Refer to even supposedly “progressive” movies and shows like Udta Punjab and The Family Man which used brownface on pale-skinned actresses for consciously perpetuating class stereotypes. In certain Indian linguistic systems at least, like my mother tongue Bengali, pale skin has often been linked to connotations of cleanliness and purity, carrying within itself an unmistakably casteist tone. I would strongly recommend researching the Varna (Varna literally translates to colour in Sanskrit) system of India, with emphasis on the way its implications have been codified into modern practices of Hinduism in India.

Finally, India as a country does not consist of a homogenous population of “brown people '', even though social media and fandom culture often tends to lump us into one mass, without taking into account that Indians can hail from a multitude of ethnicities. 

Also, and I’m not being facetious here and am genuinely curious:

How do you intend to go about assigning our origin to clay when India itself has a varied topographic profile? 

Would this indicate that the people hailing from the Deccan Plateau region would have a darker skin tone, owing to the black soil of that region (equating skin tone to the clay of origin)?

Suggested articles for reading:

Colourism and its connoations of class privilege in India

Colourism and Casteism in Bollywood and Indian media

Dark skin and prejudices in Indian marriages

Finally here is my ko-fi, because I always appreciate a tip.

- Mimi

As Black people aren't all assigned some magic / mythology culture by default, this is not erasure. That's definitely individual. 

The clay thing is a bit... Interesting, not the worst thing (in my opinion) but not the best. There's definitely this direct comparison to dark skin and dirt when you have people made of earth, quite literally. Sometimes it's really how you put the spin on it if it becomes passable. I’ve addressed this in a couple questions comparing a Black person’s skin to dirt / soil / earth. There’s one way of doing it that is better than the other. Still - Black and Brown folks may not like it regardless so there is that risk due to the strong connotations to dirt and dark people being dirty, which in your case  makes it literal (see the responses from my fellow mods).

I’d also like to know how non-Black and  / or  Brown people go about being created. If they’re singled out as being clay-made while white people are made out of moon dust and rivers and stars (which are basically free of ulterior connotations), then I’d absolutely take notice and would be adverse to BiPoc then, being made of clay.

It would feel dehumanizing and I'd rather you find an equally positive associated manner of origins. The sun is a start! In any case, just avoid food origins for the many reasons outlined in the skin color “POC and Food Comparisons” guide. 

More reading:

Dark skin / dirt comparisons 

Skin comparisons to soil

~Mod Colette

I’d agree with what the other mods are saying and maybe review why clay. It’s not unheard of for African writers to use this motif; Lesley Nneka Arimah uses it in her short story “What We Bring At Home” when the protagonist wants a child and fashions one. The rub is that it’s a horror tale, so maybe consider your reason for paying homage to this, how you want the worldbuilding to affect the tone. Clay can come in different colors naturally from red in river clay and so forth. If you want to use the motif, it may be worth going beyond black, brown and white tones. 

- Mod Jaya

Ask published Oct 2021

[jae-canikeepyou]

| muse | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: art student!jaehyun + art student!yn

a/n: thought this on a whim whilst reminiscing my art portfolio, so we’ll see how you’ll like this with yuno in it. not the best i’ve written but hope you enjoy reading 💞😉 ~j

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with jaehyun, there were three things that happened uncontrollably. one was he caused your heart to skip; two, your chest to feel all giddy; and three, your stomach to capsize. why you may ask? it was his very presence in the art academy which had heads turning and lips to whisper words of awe. he was labelled and called a prodigy.

be it in any medium of art, he was blessed to have such a talent that his parents thought it’d be a waste if not enhanced or put attention to. even your professors favored him and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t jealous. despite his princely looks, he could sometimes be a total snob. he’d be in a good mood the first hour and then changed completely in the next. oh the duality, you couldn’t understand him at all.

though question marks continued to fill your head, let’s just say you had a tad advantage compared to girls who were overly thirsting for him; he was your classmate, a major in fine arts. sometimes you unconsciously found yourself sniffing his perfume each time he helped you with the shading of portrait drawings you worked upon. he was that close. as much as you loved seeing him almost every day, you hated at the fact you still didn’t know the ways to calm your loving facial expression towards him.

it was a funny sight —at least to your friends— that they could see how elongated your nose grew every time you deny your feelings for him. yet as time passed the possibility of your admiration might turn into romantic feelings instead. there wasn’t a need to prove to you since your friends have pointed it out already.

but you yourself wasn’t too sure about it.

“please,” hyejin popped with a huge round of an eyeroll at your oblivion. legs crossed as she chewed her bubblegum. “y/n, admit that you like him. it isn’t that hard to say out loud.”

other students, including your studio tutor held in their giggles in the midst of the silence within the room. true enough hyejin was the mood maker.

her words made you stop painting the colours that were meant to accentuate the highlights of the subject. “i’m not like you who’s very expressive in words.” you replied, taking few peeks at your surroundings in case anyone eavesdrop.

hyejin wasn’t supposed to be in the studio today. she was a literature student where writing poetry was her forte. but because your tutor appreciated her effort to promote the visual arts department in the school paper, her going to the studio with you became a normal thing.

“it doesn’t have to be in words. like, i don’t know? paint some canvas and pour out your feelings through colours? yellow’s joy or purple’s dazzling or red is love-” she stopped as you gave her an annoyed gaze. “i’m sure he’ll get it. he’s not called a prodigy for nothing.”

“painting is not done on a whim, hyejin.” you emphasised, not noticing the stress put upon your work. “it takes time and thinking and creativ-”

“yeah yeah,” she made her bubble burst, which by the way irritated you since it gave off the impression that she wasn’t listening to you at all. “abstract seems so random though. no thinking there.”

you pointed the brush at her, yet careful enough that it doesn’t touch her nose. if another word comes from her mouth, you wouldn’t hesitate staining it. “sis, shapes are used instead of virtual reality, so abstract still needs thinking. you just express it differently.” hearing this, hyejin paused for a while before deciding which reaction to give, and with that you were satisfied into silencing her for a while. “now you know how i feel when i don’t understand shakespeare’s ‘love looks not with eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged cupid painted blind’.”

she let out a scoff, “pfft, you’re the cupid in that quote. you can’t even see that you like mr. prodigy so much.”

jaehyun gently opened the door and handed a paper slip to the tutor, which apparently was a doctor’s certificate. due to his arrival, hyejin elbowed you so hard that its force caused you to jolt in your seat then knocking two of the glassed jars placed on the narrow deck of your easel.

the tutor looked at your direction, and lowered his specs at the noise. flustered than you ever were in your entire life, you took the dust pan. you tried your best to not match eyes with jaehyun who was now smiling from second hand embarrassment. at farthest decibel your ears could handle, you could hear hyejin sneering with huffed laughs.

“i’m gonna kill you.” you mouthed from a table away and gave her a warning look. you gestured the phrase, followed by a scowl to refer her teasing tongue.

“i’ll help, y/n.” jaehyun offered, but you assured him it was fine. “what’re you working on?” he asked as you both walked back to the tables, he took out his tools and unfinished work.

this time was the season of cramming hours into a tight schedule, there were many initial stages/assignments due and portfolios to be completed. you guessed it was natural for you both to update each other regarding progress. “just giving more highlights and tweaks, then i’ll start on the portraits.”

he only pressed a smile, a breathy chuckle as a response while he focused on his art. “do you still need my help on shading?”

“i think i got the hang of it. thanks.” you damped the brush with water.

“alright, if you need me, i’m just here.”

your eyes shot down to your pockets, quickly answering the phone to quiet down the “supposedly” soundless vibration. and you wished you didn’t fished out the device if you knew that the message was from hyejin.

[18:45] hyejin: damn it y/n, confess already! 🤪

[18:45] you: if you could shut up maybe i will?? i could hear your voice haunting me 🙃

[18:46] hyejin: if there’s no progress today, i’m so gonna take action & tell him myself 😌

[18:47] you: ugh anything but that pls 😣

the thing with being associated with the arts was that time immediately had gone passed when you’re so concentrated. everything else faded away and in that momentum, it was just the art and you. jaehyun felt this once he picked up his brush or pencil. voices in his head whispered and guided him what to do with the creativity still yet to be shown in the world.

among all the students he bonded with, there was one whom perked his interest..

you.

as mentioned, his current surroundings blurred whilst he was sucked into another dimension of concentration. but you went there with him and appeared clear. seemed a scene out of an alternate reality in his perspective, or dramatic to some people. he was intrigued.

since knowing you, he expected to sought this mutual interest deeper. if he was the beautiful, detailed canvas everyone saw in an exhibition, you were the opposite; abstract, unpredictable and rough, someone who was overlooked because others couldn’t understand the depths and entirety of you.

finishing the last layer of the painting, you stretched to sooth the numbness. the professor reminded about the last few minutes before wrapping up the class and, he handed the room keys to you. for this tutorial, students have the choice to stay behind or leave. hyejin left with the others, leaving you alone with jaehyun. whether she did that on purpose, she’d do anything to let you be alone with him.

“oh? you’re done with yours?” jaehyun shifted sideways to take a better view of your work. he looked satisfied with the way his dimples hollowed. “hm. my advise is effective.”

“yeah, you’re a life saver.” you sighed as you looked at how completed the artwork was, then trailing your eyes to him again.

“i’m proud of you.” he winked, only to blush afterwards when his stomach growled. “i wish you didn’t hear that.���

coincidently, you tossed your wallet in the air. “good timing, i’m just about to head out to the cafeteria. want anything? my treat because you helped me.” you extolled with your mood in completely positivity. jaehyun became your inspiration and for now you weren’t able to bring yourself to tell him that.

hopefully soon though— when you have the courage.

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the sleepiness in your eyes only needed ten percent more to push your lids down, the queue was unexpectedly long at this hour. it was only until minutes later had you known that another department organised a party nearby. the wait for the order would be troublesome; that’d be in the fact there were girls right behind, their gaze burning into your skin as if you were an enemy of theirs. and somehow you knew,

they might be jaehyun’s admirers.

they whispered to each other, words audible enough for your hearing and you pretended to be listening to music.

and how you wished you should’ve.

“do you know why jaehyun took fine arts?” one asked.

an intrigued response caught you walking on a tight rope. this can’t be good. “sounds like you know the reason.”

“it’s been spreading around recently..” there was a pause that had you wondering even if you knew you shouldn’t believe in any of rumours from them. “i heard the studio has this session to draw the human body and the figures. like y’know.. no clothes?”

sigh, there wasn’t even any classes for those this semester, you thought.

few giggles were heard before they spoke again. “you’re saying he’s perverted?”

“maybe? i wouldn’t be surprised if it were true.”

“isn’t that kinda hot? his eyes starting into-”

you nearly dropped jaehyun’s food and trip over an extension wire hearing that. breathing slowly and steadily, you convinced yourself that what you heard was false. he wasn’t the type of guy they assumed he was.

as much as you wanted to prove them wrong, it wasn’t your place to speak out when the friendship you have with him was not to the level of best friends. so you rushed back to the studio, not noticing your blown-away hair and burning face. what was amusing after hearing the tea, you didn’t know why you reacted in that manner. did you leave because you couldn’t stand eavesdropping any longer? or did you run due to the fact the fantasies they had were about to enter your mind?

the door was opened with a force that jaehyun looked up from his work, smiling at your quick purchase. “whoa careful there. you didn’t have to run.” he chuckled and went to your table. he took his favourite spicy cake and placed it on top heavily. the force he exerted with his hands was the total opposite to when he dealt with art. somewhere in you, you’d say it was a 0.1 percent a turn-off.

“hey, it’s food. handle with care, it’s a blessing.” you said, munching on your share of the dishes.

jaehyun clasped his palms together, bowed his head and closed his eyes. he faced you and you sat there with a confused look. “thank you y/n, you’re an angel for treating me.”

soon after, you received a message from your professor about taking out some of the tools needed for tomorrow. holding the sandwich wrap between your lips, you took a closer look at the right keys before unlocking the storage room, opening the door afterwards.

it was at least the size of two toilet cubicles, not even close to a room’s walk-in closet. the thin cabinets against both sides of the wall were two feet, and the remaining space in the middle could fit a person’s leg, stretched out. the new set of canvases were placed on the top shelf. for someone like you, it wasn’t possible to reach them on tiptoes. you grabbed a chair and stacked two tins of paint for your feet to stand upon.

if you still couldn’t reach them.. eh, bummer. disturbing jaehyun who was enjoying his meal would be rude. you weren’t that type of person to suddenly feel as if you were already close to someone. the icky and dusty feeling on your fingertips nearly had you gagging.

“jaehyun?” you called out, apparently you’ve given up in trying another attempt. “i need a hand.”

there was a long pause as to why he didn’t respond immediately. maybe you should’ve have disturbed him? but you soon rolled your eyes when a mannequin’s hand was thrown to you. his snickers was supposedly an adorable thing to hear, this kind of wasn’t, because you desperately needed help now. “jeong jaehyun!”

he hummed right after you mentioned his name the second time. “i’m just messing around. but does that mean you’ll treat me again? i helped you.” his voice sounding with excitement.

you nodded, your anger long forgotten but he could tell there was conflict in your head. “i’ll consider it, so help me before i smack you with this plastic hand.” your tone slightly straining since you didn’t feel him entering the room.

“yeah. coming.” he said, giggling at your impatience. as you tried to reach out for the canvases again, the light behind you slowly dimmed.

that was weird. “hey, it’s getting dark in here.” you said.

before he could say anything, the door slowly closed and that made you raise a brow. he noticed this too and looked into your eyes when the light within the room soon disappeared. “ah sorry, i must’ve kicked the door stopper.” even in the dark, you could tell he was flustered from his actions. “i’ll open it.”

however his groans and vigorous sounds from the door knob stated otherwise. “what?” you heard him raise his voice.

“what’s wrong?” you hopped off the tins and grabbed the knob, twisting it clockwise then anti-clockwise. “it’s jammed.”

you both panicked because the night wasn’t getting any younger. there were things to finish and deadlines were drawing closer. before, you thought of procrastinating even when necessary. but procrastinating like this wasn’t part of the plan.

how was it possible for the knob to be jammed? the door wasn’t closed in an impact that would cause its components to be broken. sure jaehyun was reckless and couldn’t control his strength but that really wasn’t the issue here.

the actual issue was that you were going be stuck with him for who knows until when. stuck in a sense there were just enough space for two people. jaehyun fumbled his pockets in search of his phone, an annoyed groan told you it was bad news. “call someone. my battery just died and my powerbank’s outside.”

quickly you fished out your phone, only to find that it had the same fate. “ugh i have 10% left.” you slumped your sides to the shelves like there was no hope. “i’ll try to text hyejin.”

“hm i hope she’s not too far from the campus.” jaehyun leaned against the shelves opposite from you, his expression definitely amused with your reaction. a scoff of disbelief escaped your dry lips, sliding the phone to the shelf as you put your hair on one side. “that doesn’t sound good. what did she say?”

for all the things hyejin could do to help you get out of there, she’d rather sit and tease every single nerve of your body. “she said ‘you both just made your own seven minutes in heaven! i’m laughing out loud right now.’”

and for the things you thought jaehyun would disagree with your friend, he didn’t. it surprised you when his held-in giggles came bursting out from his chest. “it’s exciting. don’t you think?” he chuckled. “this is something you see in movies.”

“okay. tell me, what’s exciting about being locked-”

“we can ask each other questions. or any topic you’d like to talk about. i wanna know more about you.” he suggested, shutting you up because if he didn’t, you’d be quite a complainer. jaehyun bent to a squat, later stretching his legs until the soles reached the sides of your hips. “i rarely get the chance to talk to you properly and i guess this is the day, so scoot over.” he gestured you to move aside a little.

“gee i wonder why?” your voice came out sarcastically. “i don’t ignore people unlike a certain someone.”

“just sit down, will you?” jaehyun seemed to take the fact to heart.

you complied and sat exact the same as he did. the tiled floor sent cool to your legs but it didn’t really matter. jaehyun began by asking how you got into art; what motivated you to choose this field. “it’s just a childhood dream of mine to keep expanding my creativity. i wanna teach kids the joy in paint, that we’re not limited to using tools. i started painting with my hands and fingers when i was five.”

“really? i’m the same, except i was three when i painted.” his dimples deepening.

though you did answer him, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the whole story. you were just par in the arts, an average joe and always felt like your professors tied your wings together to express what you really wanted. every proposal you presented were rejected. if lucky, it still wasn’t good enough. not enough to reach jaehyun’s standards and world.

his shoes hit your hips again, the nudges were light and made you look to him. “your turn.” he said.

your eyes wander the dark room, the thin light from the sides of the door showing the outline of his face. “is it good? being called something you never wanted to be? did you know you’re gifted as a kid?”

“do you want my honest opinion?” he brought one leg to his chest, forearm resting on it as he start to ponder. hearing the soft shuffles from you in agreement, he gulped his dry throat to say the one thing he longed to say.

“i don’t like it.”

beyond speechless. you thought maybe he’d like the feeling of being center of attraction, or praised to have a skill that was out of this world. while you’d like to know what it felt like, it already told you enough that he wouldn’t want to be referred to as a prodigy. “not even a single bit?” alarmed, you squinted your eyes and he shook his head.

“i used to like it at first.. now i don’t,” jaehyun admitted but his face had changed the moment you asked him the one thing he never wanted to look back. “..because i was set apart from kids my age and they view me differently, nor have they ever treated me like every kid in the block.“

he continued how parents would tell him he was ‘inspiring’ or ‘i wish i had a kid like you; dedicated, and talented’. the claim have made him proud, yet this caused insecurity to most of his friends, and they distanced themselves from him. what was once the same ground they stood upon, it had quaked the earth and caused a wide gap. jaehyun hated the feeling of isolation by the will of others. though he had tried many times to reach out to them..

the gap continued to widen.

“there’s not much of a difference now.” he whispered yet audible enough for you to hear. ”i still have less friends. countable with fingers.. on one hand.”

probably the reason why he looked like a snob then.

“i see. so am i?.. part of your ‘friends’?” he heard you ask when reality hits you that you shouldn’t have said your thoughts out loud. closing your eyes for a bit, you heard the shift in his weight, he didn’t answer right away. it was as if he was still finding the words.

but he sat right beside you. “you’re already one when we both entered this classroom. i had a hunch you’ll be one i’ll treasure.”

if anyone was told the way he did just now, it would definitely make them smile. that was his honest opinion and you couldn’t help but smile at his words. he seemed to notice this too and let out a chuckle that was always music to your ears. “should we try to open the door again?” you changed the topic to avoid the awkward smile creeping your face. your hands gripped the knob and jaehyun tugged the hems of your jeans.

“y/n, if you do it further we’ll be damned if hyejin couldn’t open from the outside.” he stood that he was already behind you. “i’m not stopping you from trying though.”

“f-fine.” you leaned against the door, soothing your legs that experienced paresthesia. jaehyun pat your head like he always did whenever you unintentionally embarrass yourself, be it art or not whatsoever. “i just can’t seem to stay still.” oh gosh i don’t know what i’d do if i’m alone with him.

“yeah clearly.” he shrugged.

you had a scowled face and glad he didn’t see it. “the place’s so cramped-” you continued, walking to the chair you once stood on, only to lose balance when the shelves you held for support gave in to collapse from the weight it carried. with weight, the whole furniture wobbled to fall.

in a split second you felt yourself being lifted off the ground, a strong arm wrapping around your frame and saw yourself at the opposing side of the room. jaehyun closed into you as he managed to stop the some items from falling. the entire body of the cabinet covered and trapped you both in a tight place. the furniture tilted right behind him. one small move, the items could injure two and he didn’t want to risk that.

he could feel your breath touch his shirt and with the way you held his clothes, you definitely didn’t see this coming. “are you okay?” he thought there was a possibility of squishing you.

“uncomfortable, but i’ll manage.. somehow.” you honestly replied because there was no point in lying to him.. physically speaking, he’d know what you feel since he himself was also in discomfort. anyway, with your answer, this marked the third silence as there was another one creating yet another gap in the conversation.

okay y/n. you told yourself. you made everything awkward than before. first was you asked whether you were friends, which you already were. second was your stupid and careless behaviour that led to the position you’re both in now.

“what about you?” you asked after seeing the huge frame towering over both of your bodies, mostly onto his. so maybe that was another unnecessary question to ask.

jaehyun gulped and fixed his one of his palms that he gripped on the shelf behind you. you could see his adam’s apple move up and down, struggling to breathe. he pushed backwards to be able to see your face. tilting his head down, that movement alone made you look up. “uncomfortable, but i’ll somehow manage.” he smiled even though you knew he wasn’t.

“you know you’ll earn zero marks if you copy my answer.” you giggled, remembering the professor’s words at the beginning of the semester.

he flicked your forehead as he agreed with the obvious statement. “i heard him. anyway, it’s my turn to ask.”

“are we really playing the game now? can we at least try to figure how to get out of this position?” you began to whine and threw your head back where you hit your head, and you didn’t care how shameful you felt. you knew you wouldn’t stand any longer, your legs started to weaken because of stress— stress from everything jaehyun managed to make you feel, that included the little smiles and especially his hand around your waist.

jaehyun didn’t know why he put his palms behind your head before the incident happened but he knew he had to, with the way you flustered so much. he figured that you weren’t used to situations like these.

however a memory slipped into his mind that you were always your usual self with other guys around. he noticed how you held or hiccuped a breath whenever you both conversed. you and him weren’t particularly close to begin with, just enough to pass as friends and maybe it was his love for art that brought that gap closer to you.

right now? perhaps too close. literally.

“why not? it gets more fun.” he tried to hide the smile creeping his lips; at the sight of how irritated you were beneath him and he actually considered your plead to get you both to safety. but maybe he’d like to enjoy a little bit before doing so. “besides, there’s no way we can move properly with a lot of things blocking our surroundings.”

on both sides, the two of you were encased with large items and materials that were affected by the impact. “tsk.” you tilted your head to avoid looking at him. “at least try to push the huge cabinet?”

he did as he was told and from the grunts and exhausted voice, jaehyun gave up trying. “i don’t think i can. something’s probably caught in the gap between the wall and the furniture.” he tried to look over his shoulder to see if he was right.

“i thought prodigies don’t give up.” your voice sounded challenging to him.

“within the spectrum of our skill, we don’t. but outside our gift, we have the choice to.” jaehyun flicked your forehead again. “we get tired too.”

there was less force against your torso, he was trying to push the furniture again and you bubbled out a giggle. “wow you aren’t as cool as i thought you were.”

jaehyun wanted to hit you as you were being too playful at the wrong time. but as he brought his hand up, you closed your eyes shut to brace for the sharp impact. he sighed and his stomach growled in the most embarrassing way yet. “ugh, it’s because i haven’t eaten enough. i don’t have any strength left.” his stomach then growled louder.

maybe it was due to your bodies against each other’s and the heat starting to roam around the room. jaehyun clicked his tongue at the continuous mimicking of yours. “c’mon y/n i can’t be the only one doing the work here. help me push this heavy thing behind me.”

“uh no? do you think i could even help? don’t make me uncomfortable than i’m already am.” you moaned at the pain starting to grow along your spine. arching your back to avoid the discomfort from the shelves wasn’t really a good idea.

“ah you’re uncomfortable?” he implored with a smirk, his voice quite menacing as he leaned in to squeeze you between the cabinet behind you and himself.

for the whole time jaehyun knew that you didn’t mean whatever you said. he loved how you surprise him everyday and tonight he found you quite cheeky, and adorable too. by quite, it meant that you were like a child wanting to go home. a huff from him felt like the gust of wind. “‘i don’t have any strength left’.” you copied his words. seeing his lips pout, it was alright to give in. “will you treat me food if i help?” you returned the question because you treated him.

“you’re lucky you’re cute.” he suddenly said, with a soft chuckle, you knew he was smiling. it had gotten you speechless that it was hard to tell whether he said knowingly or not. “we can buy what the other wants after we get out of here, okay?” his attempt to get the wood off him yet again failed.

you clapped your hands quite hyperactively and squealed as if he asked you out on a date. “oh yay! okay. i wouldn’t want to be rained on for another hour anyway.” you teased, in which he exhaled heavily from his nostrils.

“i’m not that sweaty.” he grumbled, almost vibrating with the exertion of his energy.

“just perspiring.” you added.

he hit your head with his, for sure you’ll have a prominent bruise and that would make you a victim for hyejin for the next few days. or tonight, if she would get you both out. “that’s the same meaning.”

it took less than two minutes to take the weight off his back. jaehyun saw everything in slow motion— he was falling backwards and you, frontwards. “whoa!” for a moment you thought you hit yourself on a wall. that was for a brief second before the impact was replaced by a warm hug.

you checked if he was okay, he became your safe fall and again he saved you when you didn’t ask for it. “i didn’t expect.. i’m sorry.” you pressed your lips realising you were in between his legs.

he hissed at the pain and sat tiredly on the floor, using all of the fabrics of his clothes to wipe the sweat. “it’s okay.” he patted your back.

“right.. this is awkward. i better get off..” you chuckled and dusted your clothes awkwardly but what he said next really caught you off guard.

“do you want to do it?” he queried, taking you back as your head shot up and hit his chin with your forehead.

you blinked several times. “d-do what?” is this another question i won’t be able to answer?

there was a shaky grip on your waist, your heart hammered and you were afraid that he would hear it. “y’know what i’m talking about.” he put the hair strands away so he would be able to see your face under the lines of slim light.

“i don’t?” you choked on your own saliva. what was he talking about?

jaehyun’s breath made you freeze on the spot, along sudden silence. he giggled softly. “such a waste, you even have a perfect body.”

then the conversation from the two girls at the cafeteria entered your mind right when you thought deep. hold on, the rumours can’t be true..

he stood up shortly, cornering you by the door and the lights revealed his eyes, smiling shyly. “you have perfect proportions.” as of now, you were a little nervous. you couldn’t process what you were hearing from your crush’s lips and looked away where you could see hyejin’s figure closing the studio’s door.

finally hyejin’s here. i have to tell him. “uh jaehyu-”

“can you be my model?” he held your hands.

oh shoot it is true?

“i need someone to pose for my next art portrait and you’re the only one i can ask.”

‘well aren’t you quite the deep thinker~’ you could imagine hyejin’s voice telling you off at the back of your mind. you shook your head and shut your eyes for her imaginary presence to go away, making you miss seeing jaehyun’s expression turn to a small pout.

suddenly you felt like your soul left your body. what were you thinking y/n?! erase the thought! cleanse your mind from what you heard from the girls!

now you stopped being an embarrassment, you looked at him. however, before you could answer, the door swung open, causing you both to fall over and adjust to the lights above you. hyejin looked down at the two of you, her bubblegum popping with brows raised. “girl, i texted you back and said i’m opening the door. didn’t you see- oh, did i come at the wrong time?”

jaehyun quickly got on his toes, ears turning red while you covered your face in embarrassment. “this is a misunderstanding hyejin!” he stuttered and fixed his collar. you dug for your phone to check the message, but it died long before.

she blew another bubble and popped. “mhm, i can see that.” she winked at the both of you and turned to leave.

“hyejin!” you whined and clung on her legs.

“i’m leaving!” she singsonged and shook her ankles like you were a bug. “i’m giving you more alone time with your muse!”

“oh my g- you!” you chased her down. “quiet!”

she laughed cheekily and managed to exit the studio, sticking out her tongue and pointed behind you. ‘walk home with him!’ hyejin mouthed, and you couldn’t be more annoyed with her because that was indeed true. what was once a wishful thinking became reality. she knew you more than you did yourself.

as you sighed heavily, it got you hitching a breath that jaehyun might’ve heard and saw the whole thing. you turned around and he was packing his stuff, yours included. the artworks were left untouched since you both would be back here tomorrow. he gave your bag and you chose to not talk because you didn’t have the audacity to do. “so, uh. what were you saying earlier?” you hoped he would forget what he just saw.

“oh y-yeah. lemme just-” he took a deep breath and looked into your eyes. “..rephrase it- wait i’m your muse?”

of course he wouldn’t forget, it just happened. damn you, hyejin! you slouched on a nearby chair and wore your hood. “i was hoping you wouldn’t find out so soon.”

“i’m flattered. thanks.” his dimples hollowed. “i was asking if you could be my reference for my next art piece..” he trailed off recalling that you declined. “..though you shook your head quickly than i thought.”

“huh i did?” your voice affirming. “oh gosh i think i did.. i’m sorry i was hearing hyejin in my head when you said that.”

jaehyun’s eyes widened when all he heard was pure honesty from you. “so will you do it for me?”

“as long as i wear clothes while at it.” you consented with your arms crossed and began to feel heat spread your whole body at the thought of the rumour.

walking along the hallway, only the sounds of shoes grazing the carpet echoed the area. you didn’t know what else to say. he brought you to the nearest convenient store where the campus’ one was closed at the hour. the food you bought turned cold and you couldn’t afford to get sick because of it.

he pulled the chair for you to sit on. “you heard them as well.” he placed his bag down. he was aware of the rumours found around and was shocked to know you knew them too. “they’re not true.”

you propped your chin as he went back to the topic. “i know.” you agreed to his words. “they don’t describe you at all.”

jaehyun sat comfortably, a smirk appearing. “me being your muse fits the description-”

this guy.. “please don’t bring that up.” you pleaded with hands clasped.

“i’m teasing.” he chuckled. “i don’t mind if you refuse want to be my model.” he said. “but i assure i’m not like other artists who paints their naked model. i have a better plan for you.”

he was trying to convince you into his world and you were slowly getting into it. “that’s like saying you really want me to.” you took your wallet and he followed suit.

“what’s wrong with wanting to paint my new muse?” he slid his chair closer to the table; closer so he could see your reactions to his honesty.

when he said that, you never turned away so fast in your life. your chest never thumped so loudly and your eyes fluttered while he continued to press onto his question. 

an assuring smile showed on your lips and he mirrored it, already knowing your response. “nope, nothing wrong at all.” you shyly accepted his request.

jaehyun then stood to get the orders, his fingers warning you that the late dinner would be on him. your heart experienced blossoms and giddiness you hoped it’d stay forever. who knows? maybe being each other’s muse could turn into something more after tonight.  

[seokiloquy]

Mind Boggling Pt 1 - Miya Atsumu

Soulmate AU: At particular times (Once a year/ certain age/ hours/ or randomly) soulmates swap bodies for some time. (Specifics vary from story to story but I love this au wholeheartedly)

Requested

Word Count: 2k

Pt 1 | Pt 2

The rules were set for soulmates, whether they happen to have a tattoo, be colourblind, or even have wings or tails sprouting out of their bodies, rules were set. So why the hell were you so terrified? Though your soulmate quirk was a little hard to distinguish at a young age because of its nature, it was easily identified once you got a little older.

Body swap, where after a person turns 17 their mind is transferred to their soulmates for some time at any time. Though the combinations can vary from person to person, swapping only ever happens after a person turns 17. Should a soulmate happen to be below the age of 17 while the other is of age or above, the older will not have full control of the other’s actions and the younger will not be aware of the older’s presence, this only lasts momentarily before they are returned to their own body. In some cases, nothing happens until the youngest is of age as well.

Now, why were you scared? Well, when your birthday happens to be at the end of the year, the possibility of your soulmate seeing you do things you didn’t want them to, becomes increasingly high. All your friends were having fun drawing on their arms to communicate, or fiddling with their assigned jewellery (because they didn’t have a physical manifestation). You, on the other hand, sat at the side of the classroom, staring out the window to the falling snow outside trying to prevent yourself from doing anything embarrassing until the time came for you to turn 17.

Hitomi, one of your friends, sat on the desk behind your seat and played with your hair. In your mind, she got a lucky match in comparison to most. On her inner wrist was the full name of her soulmate. Whenever you complained about your quirk she would smack your shoulder saying something about she wished could live in someone else’s body for a day.

“So, are you going to decorate your room?” Hitomi asked as her nails picked at a pesky knot at the ends of your hair.

You laughed, “Ya right. I may be worried about the swap thing, but changing how my room looks isn’t going to be worth the effort.”

Finally clearing the tangled mess, Hitomi leaned back with a sigh.

“Are you at least going to write something? So they can know a bit about you?”

You fiddled with the pencil in your hand, spinning it between your fingers. You shook your head. The chances of things going the way you wanted were so low that eventually, you gave up trying to make them go your way. One of your fingers flicked too fast, shooting the pencil across the room.

“Even if I wanted to, I just lost my pencil.”

“Karma.”

“How the hell is that karma?”

“I don’t know, ask Karma.”

You sighed, letting your head fall into your hands that began to massage the skin along your hairline. These next few days were going to be rough.

You had always conjured up a story of how your first swap would go. Something like waking up in their bed one morning on a Sunday with all of their things being laid out in a way that made it easy for you to learn about them. Maybe, they’d have a letter on their desk or taped to a mirror for you to read.

Nope. Why would life take it easy on you of all people?

You fell asleep in class, which admittedly was your fault for going to bed so late. Even though the teacher wasn’t engaging enough to keep your attention on her for more than a few seconds at a time. But by the end of the period, your classmates would wake you up for lunch, no problem. At least that’s what you had thought when you closed your eyes.

That’s what you expected, but when you opened your eyes to loud cheering and high pitched squeaking you were more than a little confused.

First of all, it was extremely bright. Too bright. You thought your eyes were closed before. But now, as they squinted to adjust to the light, they were so tightly glued together that it hurt your nose. Next, it was loud. Much louder than your second-year beginner English class where the teacher insisted that no one spoke, and acted upon that rule. Lastly, you were standing in front of an open mesh wall with two glaring eyes drilling into your forehead.

You staggered back, pulling your hands up to your chest. It was then you noticed how tall you were standing, and how your centre of gravity was way off. Your body also felt bulkier, like your normal skin had expanded to a place it hasn’t been before. A hand landed on your shoulder.

“Nice set, Tsumu.”

“Huh?” behind you was a boy, standing eye level with you with hair that had been bleached to a mousey brown, almost silver colour. His eyes were open but tired, making the rich brown colour seem dull. You felt attached to him immediately. Even with his somewhat silent demeanour, the boy seemed welcoming. He was panting and sweating. Realizing this, you could feel the sweat roll down the side of your face.

The boy tilted his head, “You’re a little out of touch, did those freaks scare you?”

You looked to where the boy pointed, the copper top and his black-haired friend were still glaring at you.

“Why? Why are they glaring at me?” you fiddled with your now noticeably larger hands, now staring at their size and red blotchy colour.

“You okay, Atsumu?”

Another boy walked up to your side. His hair was parted in the center, framing his face that held an expression of general disinterest and exhaustion. He had an air of confidence surrounding him, even if it didn’t show through his slouched back, and his dark eyes seemed too analytical for any lazy person.

“Who?”

“Osamu, get the coach.”

The first boy nodded, waving over to the side where two men sat, watching. The addressed man called the ref, who stood atop a sort of podium next to the large net. The man blew his whistle and you were quickly ushered off in the coaches’ direction. As the head coach continued to watch the game progress the assistant coach with choppy black hair guided you to sit down.

Your knees pushed together tightly. Rather uncomfortably really, you let your legs relax when you noticed this. Your hands continued to fidget, picking under the nails as you watched the sport continue before you. Volleyball, you concluded, how you didn’t notice earlier was beyond you but it was likely the gravity of the situation you were in distracting you.

“You okay Atsumu?” the man asked, taking the seat next to you.

Your brow furrowed and your head tilted.

“Ya, here’s the thing, who’s Atsumu?”

Just as the man was about to speak, the scenery changed. Everything melted into new shapes, never really looking like something that didn’t exist but never being a fully-fledged object until everything froze back into place. Hitomi glared down at you.

“What an asshole,” she scoffed.

“Well, thanks I guess?”

Hitomi scoffed and glared in your direction before starting to pace around. You looked around the classroom. It was empty, lunch probably started a few minutes ago. Hitomi spoke, brushing a hand through her hair, but didn’t stop walking.

“Your soulmate’s an ass.”

You tilted your head with a nod, “Did you at least give him my name?”

The girl stopped walking and looked away from you.

“It didn’t come up. Not that he seemed all that interested anyway.”

“Not surprised,” you said, pressing your finger into your wrist. Your pulse was up. “He was in the middle of a volleyball match.”

“Please tell me he’s at least muscular.”

You sighed and slouched in your chair. Turning a bit to look outside at the gently falling snow again. You paused.

“Ya, he is.”

This happened a few more times, always at the most inconvenient, and you both overtime got to learn about each other through your pears. You found out that the first person you had met was Atsumu’s twin, although their personalities were different according to their teammates. Atsumu managed to open your phone and find a few of your photos and put in his number. These swaps happened often. Often enough that your friends could tell who was who before either of you spoke.

Whenever you happened to show up during practice, Atsumu’s teammates would help you learn the sport. It came relatively easy to you thanks to Atsumu’s muscle memory and build, but from the team’s perspective, it was more of a humorous game as they watched their talented teammate stumble around and make mistakes that he normally wouldn’t.

It was like this for a while. Until you found out your team was participating in the Hyogo Interhigh Preliminaries. You signed your and Hitomi’s names up to support your team at the tournament.

“Shouldn’t you be cheering for your boyfriend’s team?” Hitomi teased, elbowing you in the ribs.

“I will when they have a game going on.”

Despite having never talked in person over the past couple of months, the two of you did talk regularly after Atsumu put his number on your phone. You had a plan for how the day would go. First, you would watch and cheer on your school’s team. Then, once you got the chance, you’d sneak off to see the Inarizaki boys play. By the end of the game, that they hopefully win, you would run down onto the pitch and hug him.

You were delusional and you knew it.

Inarizaki’s supporting band was intense and manipulative. You had gotten to the game a little late, running from your school’s game that just wrapped up. You walked down the steps of the stands to stand next to two girls that leaned against the bannister. Despite not knowing the school’s cheerleading practices, you did your best to follow along. Up until Atsumu was up to serve.

His eyes were the same as Osamu’s, staring intently at the team across from him that shook from leg fatigue. Sweat had managed to get into his hair, making it look a bit greasy. And blood had rushed into his arms, making his veins more prominent, even from a distance.

You cheered with the girls next to you just as the band went silent. Atsumu glared up in your direction. You froze watching as he turned his attention back towards the net and served, leading to their point and win. As the band around you cheered you grumbled, crossing your arms.

“Jeez, you are an asshole, huh?” you mumbled, turning to walk back up the stairs to find Hitomi.

You had hoped to leave the tournament that day without interacting with your soulmate.

“Here again? Seriously?” in front of you was Osamu who chuckled at the sound of his brother whining.

“Hey, (Y/N). We won,” he said, raising his hands in the air slightly.

You crossed your arms, “I know. I’m here.”

Pointing up at the stands where your body was now spinning around to see where they were. You continued to talk with an annoyed tone.

“And right about now Atsumu is going to realize that he gave me a death glare not a moment ago.”

Osamu started to laugh louder, watching his brother, in your body, begin to grip your hair and squat in panic as if he wasn’t wearing a skirt.

“He’s an idiot sometimes, please be patient.”

You nodded, “I know. I’m just waiting for him to make eye contact.”

He did, and he winced, sending a meek wave in your direction. You pinched your lips together in a sarcastic smile and raised your brows. Lifting your hand, you sent a single wave in his direction.

“You’re going to punch yourself aren’t you?” Osamu asked as you both started to walk off the gym and out of view of Atsumu’s frightened stare.

You cracked the knuckles of Atsumu’s hand.

“You bet.”

There’s a part two. -Bacon

Posted: 02/07/2020

[autumnblogs]

Day 4: You eat a weird bug and don’t even care.

Starting later than usual today because I’ve been absolutely swamped with work. Let’s get down to business to defeat the Huns.

https://homestuck.com/story/644

I’ve never really gotten why John falls asleep here. Seems an odd place to fall asleep, especially with the adrenaline rush that must have been. Maybe he’s passing out from exactly that? Alternatively, maybe Vriska is putting him to sleep.

 I also forgot that John Sleeps/Skaian Magicant is split between two flashes.

https://homestuck.com/story/651

Ah here we go. John has what are, if Jade is to be believed, lousy dreams. He dreams of his Dad, of clowns, of baked goods, of Fruit Gushers, of his own symbol, the weird knock-off slimer, and Harry Anderson, before finally Jade appears.

I am not a psychologist or therapist. I am not even anything more than an amateur literary critic. But let me give you my take on that. It’s clear that John is dreaming about all kinds of things that are giving him anxiety here, if Jade’s assessment about his dreams being lousy is true.

Harry Anderson is, as he’ll say later, kind of a weird mutual father figure for him and his Dad, and as a stage magician and comedian, he represents John’s aspirations.

John wants to grow up to be a great stage magician and comedian, and if there’s anything we’ve seen about the Heir of Breath so far, it’s how extremely self-critical he is of his abilities - he’s screwed up every disguise and magic trick he’s tried so far. 

The other things are pretty self-explanatory - he’s anxious about his relationship with his Dad, he’s anxious about his Dad’s identity, he’s anxious about his own identity - with the exception of the gushers. Are gushers just symbolizing Sburb for John? Does he have a premonition that the gushers are tainted by the hand of his archnemesis, Betty Crocker? Maybe that one’s just silly.

Maybe they’re all just silly!

https://homestuck.com/story/652

I promise I will have more to say about Jade’s conversations once she is actually introduced, but until then, she is too enigmatic for me to talk about :^)

I will say, if the fact that John is stressing out about everything in his life and just not vocalizing his anxiety, it’s probable that he thinks Jade is just as mysterious as his pals think she is, and is just not talking about it.

I think John, like Jake, is way more intelligent than he lets on, and probably just keeps a lot of things on a simmer, thinking about them without necessarily opening up about them. He talks a lot about surface level stuff for sure, but he seems a lot more hesitant to talk about emotions, theories, that sort of thing. It actually reminds me a lot of how Kim Kitsuragi from Disco Elysium, far from his highly imaginative partner the player character, writes his thoughts down in a notebook to keep track of his through processes, hunches, case details, etc, whereas the Detective organizes everything in an interactive Thought Cabinet that serves as one half of the game’s Inventory and Progression System.

For example, John’s ability to describe and his ability to theorize is on full display in the FAQs that he writes, but when he talks, he’s often just as disorganized as he is everywhere else. Maybe John needs to take up journalling.

Huh. I wonder if Kim is a Prospit Dreamer and the Detective is a Derse Dreamer? That would make a lot of sense. Once @bladekindeyewear finishes playing Disco Elysium (which he is playing at my behest), I’ll see if he’s interested in assigning Lunar Sway, Classes and Aspects to the two of them.

https://homestuck.com/story/665

Dave Owns. The Narrative switches between character perspectives often right before there’s a major climax so that lots of characters can all have climactic encounters in sync with one another.

Eye imagery is on full display here as Dave ascends to the highest point in the building. The Sun over Dave’s house is drawn differently from other abstractions of the Sun in Homestuck, and this particular drawing of the Sun will later be juxtaposed against Terezi’s eyes as Alternia’s Sun burns them out.

The Sun as the Symbol of Light is also juxtaposed with Rose’s eyes later when she uses her seer powers, strengthening the connection between the Sun and Eyes. Near the very beginning of the comic, Rose compares the Sun moving on from the east coast to the west as him casting his lurid gaze on younger parts of the world, or the country. I’m not recalling the exact phrasing at this time.

Lil Cal’s creepy eyes are also highlighted by the Camera here. Through the vehicle of Lil Cal, Lord English is watching and quietly giving approval to all of this.

I choose to interpret the camera’s focus in this flash as giving us a glimpse into what Dave is paying attention to. And boy does Dave notice all of these eyes on him. Between seeing the sun as a malevolent eye watching him, to Lil Cal’s glassy gaze, to the Cameras bro uses to surveil him 24/7, Dave feels like he’s constantly being watched, and I think it’s safe to say it gives him the creeps.

https://homestuck.com/story/673

WV’s self-estimation isn’t much better than John’s.

https://homestuck.com/story/678

I wonder if we can get some insight into the strange minds of the Carapacians in the way that before he’s even finished receiving the commands, WV acts on them. WV is even more impulsive than John.

https://homestuck.com/story/684

Oh yeah, WV’s self-worth is way worse than John’s.

https://homestuck.com/story/685

Luckily almost as soon as his thoughts come, they go. He doesn’t spend too much time brooding over his self-loathing and survivor’s guilt, so good for him.

https://homestuck.com/story/688

A whole bunch of things that are symbolically related to the cast!

While WV’s can town playtime functions as foreshadowing for us, it serves as a replay of the extremely recent past for him, at least in terms of events that we know about.

https://homestuck.com/story/694

The light on Serenity’s belly looks a bit like the Sun, and therefore, an eye.

https://homestuck.com/story/699

The Blue Trees of Can Town call forward to Terezi’s forest, but I don’t think this is probably more substantial than something fun Andrew decided to call back to when he was writing the trolls.

IDK. Maybe Blue Trees = Democracy = Justice?

But Terezi’s brand of justice has nothing to do with Democracy.

https://homestuck.com/story/709

Tab, like GameBro, is an artifact of a bygone age.

https://homestuck.com/story/711

It’s a lot easier to become a citizen of Can Town than it is to become a citizen of the United States!

https://homestuck.com/story/714

I wonder who input all those commands before WV got on board? Maybe whoever was in charge of building these contraptions in the first place - a Carapacian Lab Rat in the Veil.

Always felt like the unseen actors making Sburb run behind the scenes were one of the nicest touches, they lend an air of sinister mystery even beyond the Guardians.

https://homestuck.com/story/721

I am not good at chess.

Maybe sometime, I will have my friend who is good at Chess analyze this game, and see how he feels about it.

https://homestuck.com/story/735

WV’s Self Esteem is very, very bad.

https://homestuck.com/story/752

Our first introduction to the laws of time travel in Homestuck - the past is a place that materially exists, and in only one specific configuration that can be interacted with. You can only bring things forward from the past if nobody else got to them before you. You can’t go back and undo things that somebody else (or you) has already done according to the canonical configuration of events.

https://homestuck.com/story/757

This is ridiculously cool.

Homestuck’s huge climactic story events are arguably one of the things that makes it so special as a story. I can’t think of a story that does such a good job of building up tension in multiple storylines before having them all converge.

https://homestuck.com/story/760

:D

https://homestuck.com/story/765

I wonder what the exact mechanism is by which Jade is aware of the gaming abstractions and commands to the degree that she is? Is it just her Skaian dreams? This could be a one-off gag, but it could also be an indication of a degree of clairvoyance greater than that which I feel like the visions she has as the Prospitian Moon passes through Skaia.

https://homestuck.com/story/768

Jade loves to watch things grow.

It’s a Space Thing.

https://homestuck.com/story/777

According to BladeKindEyeWear’s Inversion Theory Jade’s complicated and carefully orchestrated time loops, which she uses to connect people with possibilities, is an example of her inverting under extreme stress, acting more like a Seer of Time, her opposite, than like a Witch of Space (in much the same way that Rose acts an awful lot like a Witch of Void for much of the comic’s first half!)

I expect a real Seer of Time wouldn’t need quite so many contrivances to keep track of everything going on in the past and future. Eventually, Jade stops using her colourful reminders, which is probably an indicator that she is no longer attempting to play outside of her lane.

https://homestuck.com/story/789

Pretty much all of Jade’s interests cast her immediately as someone with a pretty strong maternal instinct, something that she shares with other heroes of Space. Jade is a caretaker. 

Her playthings are dolls so she can roleplay the part of a Mom. She grows oodles of plants, and seems to have a knack for it. She likes animals, and though the only animal in her life takes care of her, she puts in some work to take care of him too.

Her interests definitely mark her as the more classically girly of the two between her and Rose, and like her brother is preoccupied with manhood and Dadliness, Jade seems to preoccupied with Momliness - which is odd, considering that she doesn’t have a maternal figure to aspire to! (Maybe the White Queen?)

https://homestuck.com/story/790

Jade is not of course, only girly. The same way that Dad’s culturally out-of-place baking hobby marks him as transgressively feminine to John’s dismay, Jade’s scientific and artillerist hobbies are transgressively masculine.

Although it’s tempting to say that Jade loves the sciences because Grandpa raised her to, or because she’s aping him after he died, she’s clearly born to it. I think about the question of nature and nurture a lot in Homestuck.

I think on the whole, it falls pretty far to the side of Nature. Characters who share a common ancestry also share common character traits more often than not, even in the absence of shared cultural touchstones, shared geography, shared timeline. The same character only has a limited number of possible choices that they could have made, as Aranea will later say.

On the other hand, some characters turn out very different in one life than they do in another. Dirk doesn’t turn out nearly the psychopath that Bro Strider is by the time that Homestuck Proper concludes.

https://homestuck.com/story/795

Squiddles are, as everyone knows by now, a manifestation of the Dark Gods of the Furthest Ring, but I think there’s more going on with them too - they have kind of a horny energy that I can’t quite place. I’m going to come back to that. Any case, they seem to be one of the symbols that Rose and Jade share in common, although Rose subverts the colorful and cute squiddles into icons more of the extradimensional beasties that they actually represent.

Maybe I think Squiddles are a symbol of horny for the same reason that snakes are lewd to Cherubs - there’s definitely something phallic about tentacles, and definitely something intimate about the idea of becoming someone’s tangle buddy. The very first time I read Rose’s handle, I thought it read Tentacle The Rapist, which I suspect is kinda the point, and some of Andrew’s other works have variously described the process of interacting with tentacles as being molested and so on and so on.

Rose and Jade actually share a huge number of symbols in common between the two of them, which I think is great, but also sad - Rose and Jade clearly actually have quite a lot in common, and the two of them don’t really interact very much.

https://homestuck.com/story/797

I’m going to eventually decode Jade’s fascination with animals too, but for now I want to remark that it’s not just the idea of looking like an animal that excites Jade - it’s the idea of being  like an animal that excites her. The exact same little poem is later reiterated by Serenity in WV’s nightmare, as he dreams of losing control of the power of the Ring of Orbs Fourfold and killing everyone he loves. What would be a nightmare for WV though is a fantasy for Jade. The idea of being out of control is thrilling for her.

Dave is also a furry.

https://homestuck.com/story/798

The trappings of a proper gentleman. Monocle. Pipe. Top Hat. Little White Gloves. A proper gentleman without these is a piss poor excuse for a proper gentleman indeed.

SYMBOLS.

https://homestuck.com/story/800

Another spot where Jade is able to interface directly with the audience, in some form or another.

https://homestuck.com/story/802

Jade may have fantasies of transforming into something more animalistic, but she’s not willing to indulge them.

https://homestuck.com/story/803

Jade completely rejects the symbols of witchcraft that Rose so readily embraces.

https://homestuck.com/story/804

Jade contemplates engaging in some Vriskaesque behavior. Is it just because Vriska is watching her? Maybe she’s picking up some Vriska-esque vibes through the feed as the Thief of Light practices her mind control. 

https://homestuck.com/story/808

I think it’s safe to say one of two things is going on here.

Jade is either literally cognizant of the audience and interacting with them, putting her on a layer of the story that is quite a lot closer to us than you would expect of someone as innocuous as Jade (maybe the immediate presence of the Fourth Wall upstairs could facilitate that relationship?)

Or Jade has an active imagination, is extremely lonely, and likes to interact with her imaginary audience as a way of projecting a friendly and hospitable demeanor onto the world around her in sort of the exact opposite way that Rose imagines the worst of everything and everyone?

Or, as it often is in Homestuck, it could be both motherfuckin’ things.

https://homestuck.com/story/829

Did I mention Dave is a furry? Dave is totally a furry.

If we read Squiddles as a symbol of intimate contact with living things, Jade’s computer having Squiddles front and center is appropriate - it’s her point of contact to all the people in her life.

Tune in on the morrow to watch Dave’s Bro beat the shit out of him.

Until then, this is Cam signing off, alive and not alone.

[innately-pretentious]

I was hoping I could have a ship for DPS, Harry Potter, Stranger Things, and Ferris Bueller's Day Off if it's not too much. I've got golden blonde hair and I'm about medium height, just above average. I have light freckles on my nose and forehead. I love to read and write. I'm working on writing my own novel as well and hoping I can get it published soon. I'm a total romantic, probably a little too much so. I pride myself on my intelligence. I'm an introvert and sometimes a little shy.

I ship you with Todd!

The two of you would make the sweetest couple. You both have similar personalities, therefore it was only a matter of time before something pushed the two of you together. He constantly saw you around the town near Welton, and both being introverts, it took a while for one of you to actually make a move. It was Charlie who literally shoved him in your direction and forced him to ask you out on the spot. You couldn’t help but smile as he blushed and asked you to dinner that evening, his hands were shaking in his pockets the whole time.

He is very hesitant to do grand romantic gestures, but that is not to say he doesn’t display how much he cares about you at any given moment. He knows that you definitely have a romantic side and is always racking his brain to show you how he feels. His family does have money, therefore whenever you see him you always come home with some expensive bunch of flowers, however he loves to find ways to surprise you instead of just throwing money at material things.

One of his more memorable moments was when he first asked you out on a date. He knew you were somewhat of a hopeless romantic yourself, he spent the majority of the day brainstorming with Neil and Knox about what to do. He took the whole day decorating the cave where they held the dead poet meetings, taking a trip into town to get some food and making Charlie get him a bottle of wine. You saw how much effort he put into all of this, candles decorated every surface giving the cave a soft glow. You spent the entire evening talking about your favourite writers and what you wanted to do in the future. Honestly he could watch you for hours, watching you face light up as you passionately talk about what interests you.

When he finds out you are writing a novel, he is beyond impressed, jumping at almost every opportunity to read what you wrote. You often come to each other for advice, whenever you have writers block he is always there to help you come up with new ideas, he is almost too hesitant when it comes to criticise your work. You often have to force it out of him, even if he insists it is perfect on your first draft. You are often there for him as well, helping him through his anxiety or self deprecating thoughts. Calming him down when he is overwhelmed, allowing him to cling to your jumper as he buries his head in your neck, softly telling you what’s wrong. He often thinks it’s selfish how needy he is, but you are one of the only people he lets his guard down for, he is grateful to have you.

The song I associate with you guys would be ‘White Winter Hymnal’ by Fleet Foxes.

I ship you with Cedric!

This is honestly such a cute match! Being one of the most popular boys in his year, he never really had trouble attracting the attention of girls. However he noticed you were more reserved than his other classmates, but he knew who you were nonetheless. Priding yourself on your intelligence is something he respected and loves your passion for knowledge. Hardly being shy about asking you out, he had no problem approaching you inviting you on his next trip to Hogsmead. He couldn’t help but smile at the way your cheeks turned slightly more pink, relieved when you agreed to go with him. You didn’t notice it at the time, but as he turned the corner he did a slight victory jump, already thinking up ideas for what the two of you could get up to.

He loves your kind and caring nature, wanting to know more about you and determined to make you come out of your shell more, making you want to share more of yourself with him. He is pleasantly surprised when you show him your more outgoing side. He remembers the first time you really made him laugh, with his head tilted back wiping his eyes as he tries to stifle his amusement. Looking back at you as if you are the only one in the room, it’s the moment he realises he made the right choice.

Something you learn to love is his more extroverted nature, he always knows the best idea for a date. One of his favourites was when you agreed to go flying with him to watch the sunset. Being a romantic is something you both share, however he is slightly more subtle, but this didn’t stop him from spending most of the afternoon flying on his broom searching the grounds for the best place to observe the view! Settling on a small platform on a steep hill, you could see the sun slowly set over the long, winding river. You let you head rest on his shoulder whilst he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, softly tracing patterns into your arm. He wished you could stay like that forever.

He doesn’t focus too heavily on looks, however he is undeniably attracted to you. Your golden blonde hair is stunning to him, he often finds himself absentmindedly combing his fingers through it as you lay on his chest, just enjoying each other’s company. He often jokes how it is the same as his house colours, mumbling how is is sometimes difficult to find you in his house stands at a quidditch match! Another thing he loves is your freckles, he always recognises them as something special about you. Brushing his thumbs across your cheeks whilst sitting in the Hufflepuff common room, he says they remind him of constellations he used to find at as a kid.

The song I associate with you two would be ‘Baby I’m Yours’ by Arctic Monkeys.

I ship you with Jonathan!

You two would work so well together! You both had known each other pretty much all your lives, growing up a few streets away you were no stranger to the Byers family. As time progressed you both began harbouring feelings for each other, the two of you being to shy to say anything in fear of ruining you friendship.

You were the only one who really knew him, through and through. One night while you were hanging out in his room after school, listening to his current favourite record, he felt more confident than he ever had. He leans forward, closing the gap between the two of you, gently placing his lips on top of yours. You were slightly taken aback but returned the kiss, glad that he finally had the courage to make the first move.

Will and Joyce always knew you two would end up together, with neither one of them really being surprised when you started holding hands or sharing a kiss goodbye. Joyce can’t help but smile when she first notices you holding hands under the table at dinner, giving you a wink when she sees you staring, wordlessly telling you that she approves. Will was the first to know about the two of you getting together, he literally had never seen his older brother so excited! They share everything together and this was no different, after you left Jonathan was still filled with adrenaline after your first kiss. Bursting into his brother’s room and stumbling over his words as he told him what just happened. Will couldn’t help but smile and wrap his arms around him, seeing him truly happy for the first time in a while, he could feel the happiness radiate off him.

He always has a small smile on his face when you link arms or hold hands while walking into town. He is so proud to be able to walk next to you, showing you off to the world. You both have found a little routine, stopping at both the record and book shops to have a quick browse whilst running errands. He loves to watch your excitement as you look through the latest selection of books, listening as you ramble on about their history or the authors life. When he has the spare money he always buys a few for you, even when you insist it is not really necessary. Not that he minds, if he has the means to spoil you, why not? You would always make sure to try and return the favour, occasionally buying him a new vinyl that you can listen to together.

The song I associate with you guys is ‘Wonderland’ by Big Country!

I ship you with Ferris!

This is definitely an opposites attract situation! You never really took much time to notice Ferris at first, you being consumed in your studies, not wanting to engage with someone so carefree and reckless. You of course knew who Ferris was, but you always thought of him as a slight show off and therefore never really took the time to get to know him. That is until you were both put in the same class, with fate deciding to seat the two of you next to each other. He was taken aback by your slightly reserved attitude, his usual one-liners didn’t seem to have much of an effect on you. He expected himself to dislike the way you brushed them off as you focused on your work, but it just made him more intrigued and motivated him to try harder! After weeks of his subtle flirting and wise crack jokes, one of them actually made you smile. Finally managing to win you over, he decided to ask you on a date, which you gladly accepted.

He does have a bit of a wild side and knows how to have fun. He often finds you stressed about work or overwhelmed with assignments, he may not seem like it but he does have an innate knowledge of when you are being to hard on yourself, always being the one to drag you away from your desk and on an adventure, you even skip school for the first time with him. And although your times in the city are usually filled with sneaking in and out of places you are definitely not allowed to be, he always does at least one thing he knows you will love. Allowing you to spend hours looking around the museum or art gallery. Debating different works or artefacts, he always provides a great outside perspective, always keeping you on your toes!

You also are the one to stop him from doing something too stupid, convincing him that he doesn’t need to go on some crazy adventure to impress you, trying to get him inside for a quiet night in. Although he would not outright admit it, one of his favourite activities is just watching movies with you. Picking out snacks at the shop and going to blockbuster to pick out a movie, legs tangled together as your eyes are glued to the screen. He does spend a significant amount of time watching you instead of the film, admiring you out of the corner of his eye.

The song I associate with you guys would be ‘Restless Year’ by Ezra Furman!

Sorry this took so long to write! I’ve been super swamped with work, but hope you like it. Also let me know how your novel is going, when you’re finished I’d love to read it! ❤️

[worbiestuff]

COVID-19 PERSONAL EXPERIENCE

COVID-19, Coronavirus, is an infectious disease caused by a newly discovered corona virus. It is spread or transmitted through droplets generated when an infected person coughs, sneezes or exhales. These droplets are too heavy to hang in the air and quickly fall to the floor or surfaces. Some common symptoms include fever, dry cough, and tiredness, loss of smell and taste, headache and so on.

From a personal perspective on how COVID-19 affected me, I would say it did so in a lot of ways; education-wise, economically, physically, mentally etc.

The first confirmed COVID-19 case in Ghana was on the 12th of March, 2020. At the time, school hadn’t reopened but was in the process of doing so. Because of this, the president instructed that we were all supposed to vacate the school/hostel premises to our various homes, signifying all studies and academics to come to an end. We ended up studying online which brought so many pros and cons, which in the end the cons outweighed the pros. Bad internet restricted me from joining classes sometimes. I wasn’t understanding most stuff being taught because most of the courses were practical. Plus, I ended up missing some due dates for my assignments and had to beg or ask permission from some lecturers to finish them up because I had to balance house chores with school work because I was obviously home and couldn’t shun them because it’s my responsibility. Also, I had divided attention because of my siblings. I have a large family and it wasn’t helping me at all coupled with the online studies. In the middle of a class, I could be called to go on an errand or just have my little siblings running around for running arounds sake. It was one hell I had to go through.

COVID-19 also affected me economically. I manage my mom’s businesses for her sometimes and during the COVID-19 period everything was literally on me. My mom sells clothes. We weren’t having as much sales as we’d have if we weren’t on lockdown. Most people weren’t purchasing clothes because there were no new occasions. Weddings, funerals, parties and the rest had been halted too. I remember a friend mentioning to me that even if she bought clothes she had nowhere to take it to so she’d rather not buy, and this was really bad because there was not as much cash flow as there was without the pandemic and the lockdown.

My movement was also restricted because of the pandemic. We stayed home for almost a year. Months without stepping outside, no church services, parties, no visitations, etc. I was not allowed outside the main gate because of this and it got boring. I was just doing or following a particular pattern or routine every day for months; wake, house chores, eat, online class, sleep, and repeat. I got tired of the routine, I got tired of being online, I got tired of being stuck inside, and I got tired of everything at a point. It got so boring but there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to stay alive.

 My plans on travelling was tarnished. My family and I had plans on travelling during the Easter for the most famous festival of the year which was always held in Kwahu; “KWAHU OO KWAHU! This is like a ritual we always perform, going to my mom’s hometown for the festival, paragliding, hiking and having a lot of fun but this year we were restricted as the festival itself was even cancelled, prior to the president’s address to the nation. I mean we got really sad, especially my little siblings but we had to do our part, to help curb the pandemic in order to stay safe.

Despite the negative impacts it came with, I can never forget the good it did by bonding me with my friends and families. Even though my family is large, nobody really stays at home. My dad is a business man and is always travelling up and down because of the nature of his job. My mom on the other hand left home really early and came back really late, we could go a whole week without seeing her. My older siblings too hardly stayed home because they were working. Since the president announced the lockdown, we were all brought together. Our big family was back. I was seeing my dad more often, my mom and older siblings too. We would mostly gather around in the hall, watch movies or just discuss random stuff and it felt good. On the other hand I bonded well with my friends too because we were all online. Our old high school groups became more active, we were reminiscing on old times and laughing hard at old pictures. Though it was online and not physical, it felt good and real because I hadn’t spoken to some of them in years but we got bonded and more close because of the pandemic.

THE ARTIST WHO INSPIRED ME

EMMA HARDY

Based in London, Emma Hardy is well practiced in capturing the nuances of everyday life. Her images reflect an often unnoticed drama behind the scenes. Coming from a theatrical background and having worked as an actress herself before focusing on photography, Emma cites her fascination with people’s behaviour, the tensions, interactions and quirky humour, as a driving energy in her work.

Mainly self-taught Emma prefers to work with natural or available light, “I try not to impose much technique or too much of myself on my subjects.” As such, there’s a hallmark honesty to her work. Her images are infused with a believable sense of being, her portraits are intimate and unselfconscious. Tilda Swinton, Natalia Vodianova, Noomi Rapace, Michael Fassbender and Stella McCartney have sat for her, among others.

Emma finds inspiration in the chaos and unexpected beauty of life, the less seen moments in between. For each commercial client she challenges herself to bring her sense of authenticity to a necessarily constructed commercial brief, “I photograph with my heart engaged, and however manufactured an instance in photography, the test is to bring soul into commerce”. Describing her aesthetic as raw but tender, Emma finds beauty in imperfection, and polish in the detail of everyday life. And through her lens, the most ordinary moments seem steeped in romance and intrigue, as if her subjects are characters in a movie playing in her head.

WORKS

WHAT APPEALED TO ME

MOODS

Emma Hardy likes capturing the everyday nuances of life or everyday moods of life. Her images are natural and sometimes unplanned. Working with people’s behavioral manners, interactions, attitudes, etc. She tries to make her work as natural as possible and puts her heart into what she photographs, as she stated herself in a commercial brief.

 COLOUR

Emma Hardy likes to work with natural or available light.

 THE PLAN/THOUGHT PROCESS FOR THE WORK

The initial plan of the whole work was to create something like differences, get a picture of my sister and I if possible or do a clone of myself since we already look alike and are twins. This idea was to put across a message that conveys tolerance and bonding even though we’re two different people with different personalities but still twins. Later the plan changed because of certain unforeseen circumstances. This time I aimed at creating the same differences but this time with a ball, to one part would be edited as if it were night time or dark, and the other would be left with the natural light, to show daytime. This was to signify that the sun gives the moon light, and even though they are two different bodies, the needed each other. Same applies with my sister and I, each one of us has our own sides, but we need each other to be around. The final plan after a few criticisms from my lecturer was to do the Chinese symbol yin and yang.

The principle of Yin and Yang is that all things exist as inseparable and contradictory opposites, for example, female-male, dark-light and old-young. The two opposites of Yin and Yang attract and complement each other and, as their symbol illustrates, each side has at its core an element of the other (represented by the small dots). Neither pole is superior to the other nor, as an increase in one brings a corresponding decrease in the other, a correct balance between the two poles must be reached in order to achieve harmony. Personally, I feel this symbol best describes us as twins because even though we are opposites we attract and complement each other. We have tiny traits in each other. And at the core of one another, we are represented by each other.

 SKETCHES, PINTEREST INSPIRATION, MOODBOARD

FIRST DRAFT WORK

FINAL WORK

TITLE

FOUND THE GOOD INSIDE THE BAD.

I chose this title because the corona happening was a bad thing that hit us all, but even in that bad, there was a little good; me bonding with my family, especially my sister was the good.

[namluve]

↳ Under The Blue | hyejin x reader | 0.9k | drabble | pg  genre: college au, established relationship warnings: none in this one, fluffy introduction! note: the start of my first female x female fanfic, give it your love. I also want to thank hannah @spicykoreantatertots​ and anna @knjoodles​ for beta reading this. thank you guys for your help ❤️ 

Sitting in the schoolyard with your sketchbook in your hand, you try to focus on your assignment. You were supposed to find something vibrant that would catch your attention and really challenge you when it came to colouring. This week, the assignment was vague, meant to really open your perspective and look for inspiration around you, rather than just be given something to draw off. Initially, you loved the assignment, loved how your teacher was giving you the opportunity to think outside of the box.

Right now, however, you were just frustrated. Everything around you seemed vague, colourless, stuck in time and not captivating at all. Nothing caught your eye. Nothing except for her.

When you saw her open the grand hall doors, stepping outside of school, walking down the stairs to the schoolyard, your breath was caught in your throat. Her long black hair flying through the air as the wind caught it. Looking behind her with a wide smile on her lips, eyes squinted as her friend probably told her something funny. That smile. It was the smile she always wore on her face whenever she saw you.

The two of you were girlfriends, that much you had established but Hyejin was not ready to tell everyone, not yet. You understood that since you still hadn’t fully come out to a few friends and family members.. It did not matter to the two of you, you knew where you stood and as she turned her head, swaying her arms slightly as she walked you could not help but smile. Catching your pencil between your lips as you watched her scan the schoolyard, hoping she would catch a glimpse of you.

When your eyes finally met, she stopped in her tracks to observe you as you sat under the tree, legs curled up with a sketching book in one hand, the other one holding the pencil caught between your lip. You sent her a wink, your playful nature that always came out whenever you were around her. She chuckled, looking down on the ground for a second before biting her lip,shyly tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

The moment was caught short by her friend,, Jaehyun, walking up to her and starting conversation, dragging her along with him, probably to the studio to show her some lyrics he has written. Jaehyun was one of Hyejin’s closest friends and one of the few that knew about the two of you. He was funny, caring and often hung out with the two of you. Over the months, he had grown to be one of your closest friends as well.

As Hyejin and Jaehyun disappeared into the side building of the school where the studio was located, you went back to try and focus on your assignment. No matter how hard you tried to think of something else, she was all you could think about. The way her high waist jeans hugged her curves perfectly, how her smile could probably light up the night sky, how she was the brightest person you had yet the pleasure of getting to know.

She was vibrant. Her eyes were filled with hope. The way she walked was as if she was up in the clouds, bouncing slightly with the energy her soul held. Hair so shiny and fluffy you could play with it for hours. Her playful and shy nature matches yours perfectly.

Before you even knew it, you had sketched her, biting her lip as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Just as she did before, the memory stuck in your brain and now forever saved by your drawing. She was your muse. No matter how dry your inspiration was or low your motivation was, you always found yourself drawing her with ease. So that is what you did, sitting and sketching her until you had to get back to class. A smile cracked across your cheeks, your phone chiming as you received a text. 

Hyejin bear ❤️ [1:21 PM] 

-          You looked so pretty sitting so peacefully under the tree

-          Can’t wait until I get to have you all to myself

-          Want to make a mess out of you so bad

You let out a deep breath you did not know you were holding in as you read her message. She had always been good with her words, being a songwriter and all; she always made you weak. Especially with her teasing, knowing the two of you would not be seeing each other until the weekend, both being busy with your separate assignments and projects. But damn, if you did not want to get a taste right now, just a little something until the weekend. Right now, you would do just about anything to get that.

That was the beginning of your plan, how you would surprise her and hopefully get a little payback for those messages. All you needed now was her schedule, and you knew exactly who to ask. 

[khanshahjahan]

Reflection on Digital Media Foundation lectures:

In the beginning of my first year for media & communication started with Dugital Media Foundation lesson. I remember being outside with my teacher Mr Fleeta and been lectured by him where we (the whole class) were having a conversation about a how Media effecting all around the globe and we we’re asking questions about the topic where Mr Fleeta was giving us the answers as well as telling us more about our questions.

In the first week Me Fleeta has given us an introduction to the module. Most of his lectures are blur to me today. There was one lecture which stand out to me. Photography, Photoshop and additional tools lecture. In this lecture Mr Fleeta has shown us examples using a software called photoshop and has demonstrated us, using different kind of photos. Also, showed us how to use the photoshop software and how to create a photo in different ways with our own perspective. Which helped me a lot as I wasn’t familiar with the software at all. In fact I asked some questions about it. Such as how to colour grade a picture and bring the best colour out of it? Mr Fleeta has showed us all using a picture using the couple grading. Mr Fleeta also gave us information about additional tools such as different kind of websites to go to for Photoshop. For example, move, zoom, lasso, magnetic lasso, polygonal lasso, rectangular marque and more items which are very useful for photoshop. These are the tools that can be used to photoshop an image and bring the best out of it.

Moreover, Mr Fleeta also has taken us outside the university for a walk tour around Kingston area. Where he has given us a lecture about the module Digital Media and it’s definition alongside the assignment we had to go considering the tour we had. As we had to take pictures and observe sounds and the nature that was surrounded by us. That tour helped a lot as Mr Fleeta was giving us some very important information regarding the assignment we were given for the following week.

As we followed through out the first seminar. It went really well we were attending the classes and was able to join lessons physically. As soon as the lockdown started we started to have online classes. Mr Fleeta has given us a lecture on Moving Image. Mr Fleeta has demonstrated us how to create a Moving Picture. The lecture was based on making a ‘Flipbook’ style stop animation. The way he told us what it is while showing it on the screen step by step as well as how and where to put each and every pictures to create the picture animation has helped learn it quicker. As it would’ve been hard for me if I went and tried to learn it my way without following what Mr Fleeta did and how he did it. His method was the easiest because later on that I looked on YouTube to see how they do it. But it was way complicated and difficult comparing to how Mr Fleeta did it.

[juniperwindsong]

Necessary Monsters (1/16)

Summary: His first instinct is to pull her flush against him, and his second is to push her away to disguise his desire for the first. Neither seem appropriate for the setting and Felix settles for reaching a single arm around her to pat her back carefully.

No one at Hogwarts, staff or student, can remember a more heated build-up to the Quidditch Cup. The final match may be between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but the tension has set the entire school on edge. Even the professors have been caught playing sides. McGonagall has neglected to assign homework to Gryffindor the week leading up to the match, and there's a rumour Snape has excused the Slytherin team from Potions classes to fit in extra, secret trainings. 

When the long-anticipated day finally arrives, students begin filing into the stands before breakfast to ensure they have decent seats, and by mid-morning there isn't an empty space anywhere. The stadium itself seems to vibrate with the collective anticipation.

It does not escape the notice of the more observant older students that the spectators appear to be evenly divided into crowds of red and green. Some people sport both colours simultaneously. A match like this would usually show the rest of the school united against Slytherin, the seats filled with red and gold and roaring lions. But enthusiasm for Slytherin is at an all-time high. Its Quidditch team is enjoying a popularity the house has not seen since before the first Wizarding War. For once, the palpable tension has little to do with which houses are playing and more to do with the players themselves. 

Because it isn't just Gryffindor versus Slytherin, it's Weasley versus Windsong.

Both sixth years and captains of their respective teams. The former commonly believed to be the best Seeker ever trained at Hogwarts and the latter famous for her aerial acrobatics and ability to play any position with ease. Efforts by the opposite houses to knock each out of the running has forced both to travel with an entourage for the last month. An entourage that more often than not includes each other as it's a well-known fact that Charlie Weasley and Juniper Windsong are not only Quidditch rivals, but close friends.

The teams walk onto the pitch to tumultuous applause, the two captains coming to face each other on either side of Madam Hooch. They're surprisingly close in height, and the grins they flash at each other, hidden from most of the spectators, are genuine, if competitive. They shake hands, the teams mount their brooms, and the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle is drowned by the roar of the crowd as the players soar into the air.

The game begins, and Felix Rosier isn't sure he's ever been so nervous in his life. Which is ridiculous, he tells himself. He's faced down furious, fire-breathing dragons; why on earth should something as silly as a school Quidditch game have his heart thumping violently in his chest?

He grips his knees tightly as he watches the Slytherin Chaser identified as Skye Parkin by commentator Murphy McNully tear off down the field with the Quaffle. She performs a complicated little flying manouevre that confuses the Gryffindor Keeper and earns the first goal of the game. The stands erupt. Felix realizes he's dizzy from holding his breath. He exhales forcefully and reminds himself that he's not invested in the outcome of this match.

"Relax, friend, what will happen will happen. What can we add to the match by worrying?"

Felix cuts his eyes across to the young man next to him. It's been a few years, but he recognizes the disheveled hair and unshaven chin of recently graduated Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Orion Amari.

"I'm not worried," Felix insists.

Orion nods. "A healthy perspective."

The crowd roars again as Skye Parkin approaches the Gryffindor goal posts at break-neck speed. Murphy McNully's magically amplified voice carries smoothly across the noise.

And will we see a second Slytherin goal in as many minutes? Parkin shoots and - No! Blocked by brand new Gryffindor Keeper, Oliver Wood!

"The new Gryffindor Keeper is well balanced, is he not? Skye will have to alter her tactics to get past him," comments Orion sagely.

Felix merely grunts in response. His focus is on the pitch, though his eyes aren’t following the progress of the Quaffle.

"You are Felix Rosier, aren't you? Slytherin's prefect from a few years ago?" Orion asks.

Felix gives a short nod.

"I heard you were in China studying dragons now?"

"Peru," corrects Felix tersely.

"Ah." Curiousity peeks through Orion’s unflappable veneer. "You know, I cannot remember ever seeing you at a Quidditch match before. Even when you were at school."

Of course, Felix thinks, it would be just his luck to be stuck beside the one person in the entire stadium more interested in conversation than the game.

"I never cared much for Quidditch. Waste of time, really," he says brusquely, hoping the former Captain will be offended enough to stop talking to him. But Orion merely nods again, face impassive.

"Everyone is entitled to their opinion. Although, yours makes it all the more unusual for you to be here."

Felix sighs. "It's an important match for... Slytherin," he says, before turning on Orion abruptly. "You've graduated as well, Amari. What are you doing here?"

"Showing support to my Quidditch family, of course," Orion replies. "We may graduate from school but we never graduate from our friends." He turns to inspect the progress of the game. "And, as you said, it is an important match. Especially for the new Slytherin captain."

Felix's heart stutters, but before he can respond the people around them are on their feet. McNully's commentary can just be heard above the renewed screams of excitement.

And Weasley dives! Is that the Snitch there on the ground? Could this match be over before it truly begins?

Everyone in the stadium, Orion included, is watching Charlie Weasley dive toward the grass below. Everyone except Felix, who closes his eyes, too nervous to look. One shaky breath, then two. The spectators burst into a mix of delighted cheers and disappointed cries.

Foiled! By the brilliant beating of Windsong and Lee!

At the sound of her name, Felix's eyes automatically. Just in time to catch a glimpse of Juniper Windsong swooping by the stands where Felix sits, as she takes a victory lap around the stadium. Felix’s stomach does a pleasant flip, and he has to fight to keep his face straight. 

Everything from Juniper's wide grin to her perfect posture is exceptionally confident as she controls her Comet 260 with only her knees, both hands wielding her Beater's club. Squinting, Felix can just see Barnaby Lee opposite her across the pitch. Together, the two of them keep possession of a Bludger, hitting it back and forth to each other rapidly. Then, with a casual-looking flick of her wrist, Juniper sends it hurtling toward an unlucky Gryffindor Chaser. The Chaser dives out of the way of the Bludger, leaving the path to the goal posts wide open for Skye Parkin to score again.

"They make quite the team, do they not?"

Felix can just hear Orion's voice under the cheers and applause. He purses his lips tightly, but Orion continues as though he hasn't noticed.

"Such an easy rapport. It is indicative of true harmony both on and off the pitch. Perhaps more teams should consider choosing Beaters who are romantically involved."

"They're not romantically involved,” corrects Felix hotly. "Not anymore. They broke up last summer. They haven't been together all year."

"Interesting," Amari murmurs. Felix feels the younger man's eyes on him, but he keeps his gaze steadfastly forward.

The Slytherin Chasers make their way up the pitch in possession of the Quaffle. Felix recognises Skye Parkin's attempt to set up some sort of Quidditch play. He isn't sure of its name or its purpose, but he feels certain it does not involve a second Slytherin Chaser snatching the Quaffle away from Skye at the last minute causing a scuffle in mid-air. A Gryffindor Chaser nearby takes advantage of the confusion and swoops down on them from above. The Chaser nicks the Quaffle and tanks off down the pitch before Skye can gather herself. The red and gold waves in the stands stamp their approval.

Orion shakes his head. "That Chaser is not working in harmony with his fellow players."

Felix's eyes narrow at the offending player. "That's Marcus Flint. He's been driving Windsong mad all year. Doesn't want to take orders from a girl, apparently."

Madam Hooch's whistle rings through the Stadium calling for time out. Juniper Windsong and Skye Parkin land hard near the Slytherin goal posts, Skye ranting at the captain before her feet are even on the ground. Felix is too far away to hear any words, but it's obvious from Skye's wild gesticulations toward Marcus Flint, who has landed nearby, what the conversation concerns. Felix's jaw begins to ache, and he realizes he's been gritting his teeth.

"You know quite a bit about the inner workings of the team for someone who does not care for Quidditch," observes Orion, watching Felix instead of the players on the ground.

Distracted by the sight of Juniper now berating the sullen-looking Flint, Felix answers, "Juniper mentioned him," without thinking.

"I see," Orion says. "I did not know you were so close with our resident cursebreaker."

"We...write.” Felix’s cheeks redden in spite of himself.

"Peru is a long way to come to support a pen friend." Orion's tone is unassuming, but the heat continues to spread down Felix's collar.

"I happened to be in the country," says Felix defensively. "And, as she mentioned being nervous about the game and I had some time on my hands, I thought I'd stop by. That's all."

Orion makes no further comment as the Slytherin players return to the air. Felix steals a quick glance at his pocket watch, fervently hoping the match will not last much longer.

His hopes are dashed as another hour passes, Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle nearly the entire time. Felix is grudgingly impressed by Skye Parkin's performance. She whips between the Gryffindor players as easily as if they were training dummies, although Flint continues to be a thorn in her side. Juniper is forced to fly between them more than once to stop their in-fighting.

Usually Felix would be bored to tears by now, but he can't keep his eyes off Juniper as she flies expertly about the pitch. The way she manages to keep track of the entire game at once, occasionally calling out plays or advice to her team, all while flicking Bludgers at the Gryffindor seeker is fascinating to him. Felix knows admittedly little about Quidditch strategy, but even he can see Juniper's goal is to prevent the Weasley boy from catching the Snitch at all costs. She and Barnaby Lee shadow the fiery red-head about the pitch. No matter how fast he flies, the Gryffindor Seeker cannot seem to shake the Slytherin Beaters.

The fourth time Charlie Weasley spots the Snitch, the little gold ball is fluttering near the same stands in which Felix and Orion sit. Felix has a perfect view of Juniper as she bats a Bludger directly at Charlie's outstretched hand. In the split second he withdraws to avoid breaking any fingers, the Snitch disappears. Juniper grins cheekily at the furious Seeker, and Felix's stomach somersaults again.

Well folks, we're an hour in, and the score stands at 160 points to 40 for Slytherin! Seems like Gryffindor's usual strategy of relying on a quick win by Weasley just isn't working for them this time! Felix can detect a note of glee in McNully's commentary.

Tensions in the air have reached a fever pitch, and Felix has to stop himself from wringing his hands visibly in his lap. Marcus Flint seems to have elected himself Slytherin's enforcer.  He abandons any attempts to score in favor of knocking into Gryffindor players who fly too close to Skye Parkin. The third time he does this, the unfortunate Gryffindor Chaser nearly falls from her broom, and Madam Hooch calls a foul. Felix watches Juniper fly right up next to Flint, grabbing his Quidditch robes by the collar and speaking fiercely into his face. Felix wishes he were close enough to hear what she's saying. He can guess, from the way Flint yanks his robes from her grasp and flies off angrily, it isn't encouragement. Felix runs his fingers through his hair nervously.

Play resumes as the Gryffindor Chaser shoots a penalty shot and scores. The cheers from the crowd have only just begun when a collective gasp ripples through them. Charlie Weasley rockets upward, lying flat against his broom for extra speed. At the far end of the pitch, Juniper hits one Bludger and then the other frantically at the Seeker who manages to dodge both.

"It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter," Felix mumbles under his breath as Weasley stretches his arm above his head, fumbling for the tiny gold ball.

Out of nowhere, Marcus Flint smashes into the Gryffindor Seeker's side, knocking him from his broom entirely. Weasley doesn't fall far before his arm is caught by a teammate, but the Gryffindor fans in the audience howl in outrage.

Foul by Slytherin Chaser Flint! There's Madam Hooch's whistle and it's a penalty shot for Gryffindor - but wait! Looks like Slytherin Captain Windsong has called for time-out.

The green-clad players swoop toward the ground. Felix watches Juniper stalk over to Flint, anger in her every movement. In spite of the distance between them, Felix fancies he can hear Juniper shouting at the rogue Chaser, who bellows right back. Flint is a good head taller than his Captain, broader as well, but Juniper squares up against him undaunted. She points a furious finger across the pitch to the changing rooms. Flint shakes his head, lips moving rapidly. Their argument lasts one tense minute before Flint, snarling, shoves Juniper away from him, hard.

Felix is on his feet without realising, blood pounding in his ears. He's not alone. The stadium around him appears to have exploded. Down on the grass, Barnaby Lee and another Slytherin player drag Flint away from Juniper, herself now restraining a shrieking Skye Parkin. Some primal instinct orders Felix to get to the pitch to assist, the fact that there's nothing he can do having no bearing whatsoever. It takes all the self-control he possesses to force himself to return to his seat.

Madam Hooch lands in the middle of the fight, blowing madly on her whistle. Felix's eyes widen as he recognises Snape crossing the pitch toward the scuffling team, as well. There's a few minutes heated discourse between the Slytherin Head of House and his Quidditch Captain before Juniper breaks away, breathing hard. She holds a swift, secret conversation with Skye, their heads bent close together, then she hands her Beater's bat to Madam Hooch and signals her team to remount their brooms. All except Flint. Felix watches, mouth hanging slightly open, as Snape escorts the furiously railing Slytherin boy back across the pitch and into the changing rooms.

And it looks like Windsong has booted Marcus Flint from the Slytherin team and is taking his place as Chaser! Slytherin will now be one player short for the most critical match of the entire year! A bold move for the new captain.

"Can she do that?" Felix asks, stunned, as the team waits for Madam Hooch's whistle to resume play.

"If she has done it, then it can be done," answers Orion mystically.

Felix brings a hand up to trace the long scar running down the side of his neck. He feels ridiculously helpless. He wishes vainly that he had never come to the match. If he'd had any idea how stressful Quidditch could be, he would simply have caught up with Juniper afterwards, and spared himself this torment.

The game begins again in earnest, and if Slytherin had a monopoly on the Quaffle before, it's nothing compared to now. Between Skye and Juniper, the Gryffindor Chasers barely have a glimpse of the ball. Slytherin gains another 30 points in less than ten minutes.

And Slytherin is now up by enough to win the match even with a Gryffindor Snitch capture! One has to wonder how this will affect Weasley's strategy...

It's obvious even to Felix that the Gryffindor Seeker has slowed his incessant circling of the pitch.  Presumably, he’s waiting until the Chasers score more points, but it seems unlikely Gryffindor will ever catch up. While Oliver Wood manages to save about one in three shots at the goal posts, the Gryffindor Chasers cannot manage to wrest the Quaffle from Skye and Juniper. Although, Felix thinks he can detect a slight lag in the Slytherin Chasers' movements. He wonders if the lengthy game hasn't begun to tire them.

At 300 points up for Slytherin, the spectators begin to be restless. The buzz of scattered conversations can be heard amid the regular cheers.

"Is this a typical length for a Quidditch game?" Felix directs the question at Orion, and the young man gives his enigmatic smile.

"There is nothing typical about a Quidditch match. Each is unique," he replies knowingly, before adding: "This one is rather long, though."

Sudden shouts in the crowd around him cause Felix to look up. He’s in time to see Weasley dive once more, just in front of his stand. As Felix watches, Barnaby Lee zooms forward, Beater's bat poised to aim a passing Bludger at the Seeker, but a shrill whistle distracts him before he can execute the attack. Half the players on the pitch, and Felix in the stands, follow the source of the noise to the Slytherin Captain. Juniper hovers near a goal post, shaking her head frantically at Barnaby.

Felix furrows his brow, confused. "What, does she want Weasley to catch it?" he asks incredulously.

Orion's smile blossoms into something less mysterious and more genuine. "Charlie Weasley is a good friend of Juniper's. Perhaps, she wants his team to lose with dignity."

Felix's face twists in distaste. "Or perhaps she just wants the game to be over," he argues, as Charlie snatches the golden blur hovering just above the ground.

"That too," Orion agrees, and the stadium around them erupts.

Supporters of both sides are screaming and crying. Felix finds himself on his feet with everyone else, caught up in the wave of adoring Quidditch fans applauding uproariously. He watches the Slytherin team hit the ground, brooms forgotten as they reach for each other in a giant, scrum-like embrace. Felix realizes the back of his robes are soaked through with sweat as though he too has been flying nonstop for hours.

Students swarm from the stands like locusts to surround the new Hogwarts Quidditch champions. Felix is just considering whether or not to attempt pushing through them when he catches sight of one lone, green-clad figure moving against the crowd. Juniper forces her way through the ecstatic Slytherins to the end of the pitch where the Gryffindor team has landed, slightly more subdued. Charlie Weasley's bright red hair is visible even from high in the stands. Felix can make out the Gryffindor's reluctant grin as he extends a hand toward the approaching Slytherin. Juniper ignores it. She pulls the short, stocky boy into a tight hug, and Felix's stomach, writhing nearly non-stop for the entire match, suddenly turns to lead.

Beside him, Orion says into his ear, "So, what do you think of Quidditch now?"

Felix scowls, unable to rip his eyes away from the spectacle below him.

"Absolutely pointless," he grumbles.

-

In spite of her scene on the pitch and its obvious implications, Felix decides it would be a phenomenal waste of time to have endured such a painfully long match without seeing Juniper after all, so he joins the throng traipsing from the Quidditch Pitch to the Hogwarts' dungeons. Although it has been a few years, Felix is sure he's never seen the Slytherin common room so crowded. It's impossible to see to the wall opposite, the room is so tightly packed with cheering, jumping bodies. He's certain there aren't this many people in the whole of Slytherin house. Sure enough, Felix catches a glimpse of Penny Haywood and another Hufflepuff girl with spiky pink hair passing out Butterbeers and talking animatedly.

"What in Merlin's name are Hufflepuffs doing here?" Felix mutters to no one in particular.

"Quidditch has a way of bringing people together." Felix rolls his eyes hugely as he recognizes Orion's mellow voice from beside his shoulder. "As does Juniper Windsong."

Felix bristles but says nothing. It's true, Juniper's friend group has always been diverse. It's a trait he usually admires in her, but Felix isn't well-disposed to her inter-house friendships just at present. He has only a moment to brood over this, however, before enormous arms grab him from behind and lift him off his feet.

"Felix!"

He recognises the enthusiastic voice of Barnaby Lee. The muscular boy gives Felix another hard squeeze before lowering him back to the floor.

"Nice to see you too, Barnaby," Felix gasps, winded by the rib-crushing hug. He straightens his robes and glances around self-consciously. Quidditch team members are filing in behind Barnaby, and Felix's heart skips a beat as the crowd around them gives an enormous cheer. But it's only Skye Parkin entering the common room with the Quidditch Cup held above her head.

"What are you doing here?" asks Barnaby excitedly. "I didn't know you were back from China!"

"Peru," Felix corrects, attempting to scan the players behind Barnaby as casually as possible. "And yes, I arrived today."

"Just to see us play?"

Felix fixes his gaze on the extremely tall, well-built young man in front of him. Barnaby has grown-up significantly since the last time Felix saw him, but he hasn't lost any of his boyish good-looks. Felix recalls Orion's comments about Barnaby and Juniper from the Quidditch match, and his already bad mood continues to sour.

"No, of course not," he replies curtly. "I've applied for a transfer to the Romanian Reserve. My interview is next week."

"Wow! That's amazing!" Barnaby's face is full of awe, which soothes Felix's temper very slightly. "But... how did you know we had a match today?"

Felix repeats his now practiced excuse. "Juniper mentioned it in her last letter, and, as I was in the country in time, I thought I'd drop by."

"So, she doesn't know you're here? C'mon, she'll be so excited to see you!" Barnaby grabs Felix by the wrist before he can reply and wades into the sea of bodies, pulling the former prefect in his wake. Felix is careful to stand as close to Barnaby as possible to keep himself from being swallowed by the crowd. He isn't usually bothered by cramped spaces. He's spent the last three years in a variety of tight quarters. But something about the heat and noise and sweat from the excited bodies around him makes him feel dizzy. He closes his eyes, allowing Barnaby to drag him forward, and so he hears Juniper before he sees her.

"Look, I warned him all year. If he wasn't going to be a team player then he wasn't going to play on the team."

Felix’s eyes snap open automatically. A cluster of people in festive green face-paint block his view, many of them busy loudly protesting Juniper's words.

"Weasley would have caught that snitch without Marcus! He saved the game!" says one petulant voice.

"That's how Slytherin plays! It's about doing anything to win!" insists another.

All pretense of nonchalance abandoned, Felix cranes his neck over Barnaby's shoulder. He’s just able to glimpse the back of Juniper's head. Her hair falls in waves, much longer and more kempt than he remembers.

"Look, no one wants to win more than I do!" she argues, and Felix swears he can actually hear her smile. "Well, except maybe Skye."

There's an outburst of appreciative laughter from her audience.

"But cheating is a cop-out," Juniper continues. "It means someone else is really better than me and I couldn't beat them on my own. I told Flint, I wanted us to win because we were the best or die trying, but cheating to make that happen is just the same as losing."

"Yeah, and it's nothing to do with the fact that it's Weasley he knocked about," says a sly voice from somewhere in the crowd.

The outcry around her is divided into loud cheers and raucous laughter, but Barnaby's voice cuts through them.

"Juniper! Juniper, look who's here!"

Barnaby steps aside just as Juniper's head whips around. Her eyes widen in recognition as they fall upon Felix. He has a split second to worry whether he should keep his face neutral or attempt a smile, before she flings her arms around his neck, dragging him into an eager embrace. Felix's first instinct is to pull her flush against him, and his second is to push her away to disguise his desire for the first. Neither seem appropriate for the setting. He settles for reaching a single arm around her to pat her back carefully.

Juniper pulls away, leaving her hands resting on his shoulders. She's grown quite a bit if she can look him in the eye while doing that.

"You're here! I can't believe you're here!" she babbles excitedly, her face transported by her wide smile. She laughs giddily and hugs him again, and as Felix inhales that familiar aroma of lavender and something else he can't identify, all his ill-feeling evaporates.

However entangled she may be with anyone else, Barnaby Lee or Charlie Weasley, it's suddenly as meaningless to him as Quidditch. Her scent, her arms around him, her body pressed up against his, all confirm for Felix what he's suspected for the past year: he's in love with Juniper Windsong. And he's come back to Hogwarts with the express purpose of telling her so.

-

Read Chapter 2 | View all stories on the Masterpost

[yellowcanna]

Two Sides, Same Coin

Summary: Since the beginning of Quirks, Yokohama has announced independence from Japan and closed itself from the rest of the world.

To this day and age, no one knows what lies within the city of Yokohama—or that was what the public was made to believe. In reality, Yokohama has long fallen into the control of the world’s largest criminal organization known as the Port Mafia.

Follow Class 1-A as their principal organized a field trip to Yokohama! In their short trip there, they must change their perspectives and learn exactly what it means to be justice and what it means to be villains.

Rating: T

Genre: Crossover, hint of shounen-ai (boy love)

Pairing: Contains mild Soukoku (Dazai x Chuuya) and Shin Soukoku (Akutagawa x Atsushi) if you squint

Author: Canna / Yellow Canna

Available on AO3!!

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CHAPTER 14

STRAYS (NIGHT 3: TUESDAY)

This story has been beta'd by Momentary_Flight, Nanami_ontheShore, Shady Spades

Dazai sat comfortably in his seat as he looked towards the stage, his eye meeting a pair of sky blue ones. Bathed within the red light, nobody noticed the faint trail of a crimson glow slowly disappearing from the singer’s body.

Chuuya was smiling at the crowds and even talked to some of the audience that ran too close to the stage despite the line of waiters holding them back. Somewhere in the back, someone even threw him a can of beer, which he caught with ease before waving in that direction.

The man down there was like a star shining brilliantly in the night sky.

Yet only Dazai knew that, right now, every movement Chuuya made was carefully calculated. No matter how he stood or where he was seemingly looking towards, he made sure that Dazai was well within his sight. Despite how relaxed he may look, there was no question that the Executive would spring into action the second danger towards his boss was detected.

Chuuya walked off the stage, tossing the microphone to Tachihara who took his place.

The music picked up again, pulling the crowd's attention away from Chuuya as the redhead made his way back into the VIP section.

As soon as Chuuya returned, Dazai dismissed the guards around him, leaving the space for only the two of them.

The brunet patted his knees, but the redhead stopped right in front of him with his arms crossed.

“What’s wrong, Chuuya?” Dazai blinked his large, chocolate brown eye at his lover expectantly. “You were so docile before!”

“You want to see how docile I am?” Chuuya gritted, cracking his knuckles to loosen his joints.

“You never know who might be watching, we need to keep the act up!”

“There’s no one watching,” Chuuya retorted.

“They could from that giant hole in the wall.”

“You mean that?” Chuuya huffed proudly as he gestured towards the wall he had thrown the League of Villains through. The hole was already filled up by broken pieces of bricks, smashed together and squeezed into the hole until not even the smallest gap could be found.

“Uwaah…” Dazai made a disgusted face. “I bet interior designers all over the world are crying in joy that Chuuya didn’t become a construction worker.”

“Hah?!” Chuuya felt a vein on his forehead throb. It was a miracle his veins haven't popped yet. "I'd like to see you do better, you shitty—mmh!”

While the Executive was distracted, Dazai reached up, a nimble finger hooking onto the silver ring on the redhead’s choker, and pulled him down. Chuuya stumbled as he fell over Dazai, but he swiftly put a knee between his boss’s legs and a hand on each side of the brunet’s head to stop them from colliding.

Chuuya moaned into a pair of lips that smothered against his, with a wet tongue slipping into his mouth without any warning. Rough, calloused hands caressed his hips before they slipped under his tank top to feel his abs.

The redhead shivered at the touch before pulling away.

Dazai didn’t stop him. He just sighed in disappointment and licked his lips that were moist from the shorter man’s saliva.

“You know, Chuuya.” He looked up to the redhead who was fixing his clothes despite how it didn’t matter since they were in a club and the other wasn’t in his usual suit. “Maybe I should demote you and have you become my personal dog. That way, I can have you on my lap day and night.”

“I would like to ask the boss to please reconsider, as the Port Mafia cannot afford to lose a valuable asset such as Chuuya-sama.”

The boss and his right-hand man turned to see an elderly man making his way up the stairs.

“Ah, Hirotsu-san,” Dazai greeted cheerfully, “did you enjoy your vacation?”

“It was quite eventful.” Hirotsu bowed to his boss before turning to Chuuya. “Your performance tonight was spectacular, Chuuya-sama.”

"At least someone appreciates my effort," Chuuya moved to stand by his boss's side. 

“Well then, tell me about your reports, Hirotsu,” the Port Mafia boss said as he got comfortable in his chair.

Hirotsu reached into his coat and pulled out a large yellow envelope. Chuuya stepped forward to take it before passing it to his boss.

The first thing the two of them saw when Dazai pulled out the papers was the picture stapled on the first page. She was a young girl about the age of six or seven with bluish silver hair, crimson eyes, and a horn on the right side of her forehead.

“I have confirmed that the Shie Hassaikai is indeed creating a drug capable of destroying Quirks. The drug is created using the flesh of Chisaki Kai’s adoptive daughter, Eri.”

“Flesh?” Chuuya raised a brow. “So it’s a Quirk?”

“Yes. The girl’s Quirk is to rewind the time of living beings.”

"Which means with proper adjustments her Quirk can directly attack the virus within the host's bloodstream and completely erase the virus from the body without damaging the body itself," Dazai hummed as he flipped through the documents.

“It is quite similar to the vaccine first created when Quirk began to appear,” Hirotsu nodded.

“But now, those vaccines will only kill them,” Chuuya pointed out. “Since the second generation, the bodies of those outsiders started to merge with the virus and now it is part of their genetics. There's no way of reversing that process without killing them.”

“Yet this girl can rewind the time of the genetic structure of the body to separate the virus without taking their life.” Dazai smiled before his eye snapped to Hirotsu. “How far along is the development of this drug?”

“I would say at eighty percent," Hirotsu replied. “The current drug created by Shie Hassaikai can only temporarily remove a host’s Quirk for six to seven hours.”

“And?” Dazai tossed the documents onto the table. “Surely you’ve brought me the finished product.”

Hirotsu bowed before setting a black briefcase onto the table. He unlocked the case with a finger scanner then swiftly keyed in the passwords.

The case unlocked with a light click.

Spinning the briefcase around, Hirotsu laid it down and opened it to reveal five syringes. Each syringe was within a vacuum-sealed bag and filled with crimson fluid.

“During my infiltration, I had taken some of the incomplete drugs as well as some samples from the girl and brought it to the laboratory yesterday evening. These are the completed versions that the lab has created.”

“So they only needed one day to finish what Shie Hassaikai had been trying for years,” Chuuya snorted. Organized crime in the outside world is getting worse and worse as the years go by. It was also stupid of the Shie Hassaikai to sell the drug when it was still incomplete. Did they think they wouldn't catch unwanted attention? Or were they that confident in thinking they were the only ones capable of creating the drug just because they had the material?

Dazai reached forward and took out one of the syringes. He squinted his eyes to get a closer look at the drug inside. While the colour was the same as blood, the density was closer to water’s.

“Have these been tested on Ability users?”

"No," Hirotsu replied. “According to the head scientist, this drug only targets the body's DNA which the viruses reside in.”

“That I’m sure.” The brunet agreed as he put the syringe back into the case. “But nevertheless, we can never be too careful. Give these to Ryuunosuke-kun and have him test it out on Ability users. If by some miracle it does have the power to destroy Ability…”

Dazai’s eye narrowed, losing the warm light it held before and took a colder, crueler quality.

“Kill the girl and burn the Shie Hassaikai to the ground.”

“Yes, boss.” Hirotsu bowed. Recognizing his boss’s dismissal, he took his briefcase and headed off to complete the first task he was assigned since returning to work.

Chuuya watched Hirotsu leave before looking over to Dazai who was lazily flipping through the documents scattered on the table while humming a light tune.

“You seem pretty happy,” the redhead noted.

“Can you blame me?” Dazai grinned at his right-hand man. “It’s been a while since someone dared to blatantly scheme in front of me like that, especially when the schemer is as easy to read as an open book. I can’t help but play along~”

“Play along?” Chuuya narrowed his eyes, not believing a single word that came out of his boss’s mouth. “You mean manipulating them to play along with your shit? And don’t fucking tell me that making me sing on stage every Tuesday for the past three months was just for this!”

“How could you accuse me of that, Chuuya!” Dazai gasped with his hands flying over his heart. “I truly enjoyed watching you sing every night. Chuuya’s like a shining star on stage!”

Another vein popped out from Chuuya’s forehead. As much as he wanted to slam his fist into this man’s gut right here and now, he knew he couldn’t. They were in public, they had an image to keep up.

“So? What’s with those kids?” Chuuya snapped, changing the subject.

“Chuuya, even if they have eighth-grader syndrome with dreams of destroying the world, calling them kids is a bit—”

“I’m talking about those Hero kids,” Chuuya corrected. “The ones from U.A. You purposely led them here at this time and knew I would have no choice but to let them out the backdoor.”

“I did promise their principal to show them around Yokohama," Dazai smirked. “What kind of guide would I be if I didn’t let them enjoy Yokohama to the fullest?”

Chuuya snorted at the poor excuse. He didn’t care that Dazai didn't answer his question, as he already has a clue as to what that was about. After all, that person was doing his mission nearby. Although the chances of them accidentally running into one another were slim, if a certain scheming bastard manipulated this…

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Seven Months Ago—Port Mafia Headquarters

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  BOOOOOOOOOOM

The sounds of explosions resonated through the air, shaking the entire building as dark smoke stretched towards the night sky.

“Fire! Shoot it down!”  

“The barrier’s been damaged!”

“What are they doing?! Why isn’t the barrier restored yet?!”

“The system’s been jammed! We can’t operate it!”

"Another one's coming!"

"GET DOWN!!"

Within the darkness, a missile flew down from the sky, slicing through the wind as it aimed towards one of the five Port Mafia buildings. The missile slipped through the hole in the barrier the first missile had created, slamming into the side of the building as crimson flames erupted, followed by the sound of explosion.

Alarms echoed across the halls as sprinklers were immediately activated to put out the flames.

Men and women ran towards where the explosion had occurred to help put out the fire.

A man cloaked in black rushed down the hallway, his body almost becoming a blur as he flew down the stairs and arrived at the floors that had suffered the most from the explosion.

“Senpai!” a blond-haired woman gasped as she did her best to catch up to her superior. “Senpai! It’s too dangerous, please head back!” she shouted after him, but the man did not listen to her words.

The explosion had annihilated the hallways of three floors, but that wasn’t important at all. What’s important was the room at the end of the middle hallway.

He ran into the fire, one hand holding a cloth over his nose and mouth to protect his lungs from the heavy smoke. When he arrived at the room, his eyes flew wide at the metallic door that had been completely blasted off its hinge, distorted and leaning against the corner.

His cloak fluttered around him as he walked into the room. Silver eyes narrowed as he surveyed his surroundings. Aside from one side of the wall completely blasted away by the explosion, the remainder of the room was pretty much undamaged.

The man looked over to the bed, then to the collection of large stuffed animal toys. Activating his Ability, black tendrils shot out of his coat, stabbing into the bed, toys, and closets—tearing everything apart.

The blond woman finally caught up, panting heavily as she walked into the room. She wasn’t given the time to take in what the room looked like before her eyes shifted to the missing wall where the outside world was visible to her eyes.

“Senpai!” She cried as the man whirled around, looking up to the sky where a giant whale was swimming beneath the sea of stars.

They were only able to see the barrier around the headquarters materialize for a split second before multiple explosions blasted over the surface of the barrier. For a minute straight, the barrier was engulfed in flames, casting crimson light upon those inside the building.

Everyone shielded their eyes as the barrier protected the building from being touched by the scorching flames. When the flames finally disappeared, all that was left was the crumbling pieces of the barrier. When the raven-haired man looked back up to the sky, the whale was gone.

“So this was what they were after.” The man gritted his teeth as he stormed out of the room, stepping over a framed TV in the process, completely shattering the screen under the pressure of his foot. “Higuchi, send out an order. They couldn’t have gotten far with Q. Send out all men to find Q and kill them on sight.”

“Yes!” The woman hurriedly did as she was told. She tapped onto the Bluetooth in her right ear and commanded, “Abandon all battle stations! Q has been captured by the Guild! All personnel are to find Q and kill on sight!!”

From another building identical to the one that had suffered from the bombing, a man in a black suit and a red scarf stared at the bright flames lighting up the night.

“Boss, please step away from the window! The barrier is gone, it’s dangerous!” the men around him fretted, but the brunet just waved them off.

“It’s fine. They can’t see anything from the outside.”

“But—” The men looked like they wanted to argue, but a sharp glare from their boss silenced them as they remembered their place.

“Boss.”

“Ah, ane-san.” Dazai smiled when he saw Kouyou speed walking over to him. The men surrounding him backed away, making room for their Executive.

“Where’s Chuuya?” She furrowed her brows, instantly noticing the lack of a petite redhead. Ever since Chuuya had become Dazai’s right-hand man, the two were barely ever seen being apart.

“Chuuya is checking on the barrier," Dazai replied. “Do you need something, ane-san?”

"The Guild has Q," Kouyou informed her boss with a grave look on her face. “Please follow me into the safe room until the situation is dealt with.”

“Ah-ah~” Dazai sighed, but obediently followed Kouyou down the hall with men surrounding the two as protection. “I leave the headquarters’ defense to Ryuunosuke-kun and this is the result. Looks like he’ll need some more discipline once the Guild’s been dealt with.”

“The missiles accurately targeted the room Q was confined in,” Kouyou frowned, not as easy going as her boss. “I’m afraid we may have a traitor amongst us.”

“Hm…” Dazai hummed, “There’s no need to worry, ane-san. I’m sure everything will work out.”

Kouyou glanced over her shoulder to her boss. Questions were swirling in her eyes, but the Executive kept her silence and continued leading the way. 

It was only after they began descending the spiral of stairs that she spoke again.

"The Guild has crossed the line by directly attacking us," Kouyou said as they arrived at the lowest floor. She waved off the men around them and led Dazai down a long hallway. “Do you still refuse to let us step in?”

“I told you, ane-san. Taking down the Guild is Atsushi-kun and Ryuunosuke-kun’s job,” Dazai said, stopping in front of a door. The two guards standing by the door bowed at his presence as Dazai’s fingers danced swiftly across the number pad.

After scanning his palm, the doors opened, one layer after another. The moment Dazai stepped inside, the doors slammed shut, clicking sounds echoing in the air as the locks were being put back into place.

Dazai strolled into the simple underground chamber. The most elaborate thing here was the bed and chandelier. He leaned over a handrail, humming as he gazed up at the chandelier hanging directly above his large bed. He should find some time to replace that obnoxious thing.

Dazai blinked, seeming slightly surprised before he stifled a small laugh.

“Four years ago, the first thing that would have come across my mind would be how perfect it is for hanging.” Dazai snorted at his own change as he walked to his bed and plopped onto the king-size mattress. Or perhaps he could sabotage the chandelier and have it fall on him while having a peaceful sleep.

“If you want to die that badly, I can come and finish you off,” a sarcastic voice came from the black Bluetooth in the Port Mafia boss’s ear. “How does the curb sound to you, shitty boss?”

“And leave Chuuya to become a widow?” Dazai smirked as he folded his hands behind his head. “I trust that you haven’t been caught?”

“Who the hell do you think I am?”

In the other building, a short man in a black suit and fedora kicked down the iron door. He emerged from his hiding spot with his hands tucked in his pockets. Despite the entire place being charred and dusty, there wasn’t a speck of dirt on his body.

“As if I’d get caught by that apprentice of yours,” Nahakara Chuuya snorted as he walked into the room that looked as if a beast had been rampaging in it. Everything that could hide a person had been violently torn apart and thrown onto the ground.

“Looks like I wasn’t needed,” he said, kicking away a small piece of cement by his feet. “But to think those bastards broke through the walls with just two missiles…!”

Chuuya clicked his teeth. Even if this was planned by Dazai, he didn’t like it one bit. The outer layer of the building was specially made to withstand at least sixty consecutive missiles! And for the protection barrier around the headquarters to be so easily blasted apart was another issue.

“It’s not surprising that their weapons are more advanced than ours. They don’t have a city like Yokohama to protect them in America, so the developments of their technologies are solely focused on weapons,” Dazai hummed, “Though they were still discovered and hunted for human experimentation.”

Chuuya frowned at that. He has heard of too many similar stories in the outside world.

Despite the seemingly peaceful relationship they have with Japan, the rest of the world treated Old Humans very differently. For one, the knowledge of Old Humans isn’t known to the whole world. Their existence had always been top secret in Japan and kept from the rest of the world. It’s only in the last century that it was no longer a state secret.

As society became more and more stable, there were always curious eyes turned towards the mysterious city. So occasionally, Yokohama would invite a selected few inside, allowing only one to walk back out and deliver information.

This was the only way to get those nosy governments to get rid of any weird ideas about Yokohama—like reclaiming it for example. By showing Yokohama as a threat, the Japanese government wouldn’t move recklessly, especially when they still have the issue of Villains. They couldn’t afford to create another enemy, and as long as they are left alone, Yokohama has no intention of waging war against them.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for other countries. Without a base to protect them, once discovered, Old Humans will easily be captured. Abilities are extremely rare and even if they were powerful, they cannot fight while protecting a whole community.

“If that’s the case, then won’t they blast the entire city to the ground?”

“They won’t,” Dazai replied with certainty, “Even if their technology in weaponry is a tad higher than ours, Fitzgerald isn’t stupid enough to think we won’t have a countermeasure against large scale attacks. And even if he is, he knows he won’t find what he’s looking for if the entire city is gone.”

Chuuya walked over to the open wall. He leaned forward, poking his head out a little so he could see the state of things below. Blue eyes sharply trailed over each man and their positions before the redhead leaned back and glanced to a torn blanket lying on the ground not far away.

“So who were the ones that took Q?” Dazai asked cheerfully. Chuuya was sure the other knew already, but responded anyway.

“It’s the two that engaged with that other apprentice of yours,” Chuuya said as he took out a small booklet from his pocket and flipped through the pages. “John Steinbeck and Howard Phillips Lovecraft. So far, we still can’t figure out what Ability the second guy has.”

“Then perhaps it’s not an Ability at all.”

“You mean he’s a Quirk user?” Chuuya didn’t believe it. After all, if that man was a Quirk user, he wouldn’t have slipped through the barrier.

“It doesn’t matter.” The redhead could hear the smirk behind his boss’s lips. “After tonight, they won’t be relevant.”

Chuuya didn’t ask what that meant as he picked up the cotton blanket and headed back towards the edge. Crimson light coated his body as Chuuya activated his Ability. With a stomp of his feet, the floor beneath his feet caved in. Chuuya threw the blanket around his body as he fell towards the ground.

The sight of the baby blue blanket falling attracted the attention of the men stationed nearby. They raised their guns and circled the blanket that had a bulge in the middle. One of the men stepped forward, gripping the corner of the blanket and ripping it away only to find that it was a piece of concrete.

To be sure, the men searched around the area. After making sure there wasn't anything suspicious, they returned to their posts.

Perched on a nearby tree, a certain Executive watched the sight with narrowed eyes.

“Bunch of morons. I’ll deal with them after this is over,” he muttered darkly before he turned and darted off. He easily made it across the street, undetected by the Port Mafia underlings that were on watch.

The more of them he successfully evaded, the more the redhead felt his blood boil. It seemed their training had been too lax. He'll need to have a long talk with Kouyou about creating a new program after this entire mess got cleaned up.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. With a quick scan of his fingerprint, the phone lit up with a map on the screen. Chuuya stared at the blinking red dot that was rapidly approaching. He looked towards that direction just in time to catch a blur of white darting across the street before it was gone.

“Dazai.”

“Yes, love?” Dazai’s voice whispered gently into his ear.

“If this plan of yours doesn’t work, I will kill Q.”

“Of course.”

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Present

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 “Who are you?” the child asked as mismatched eyes looked at the group of twenty people standing there.

They were all stunned at the sight of such a young girl—or perhaps a boy? Either way, this didn’t seem to be a place where they would find a child.

They automatically looked around, hoping to find the kid’s parents, but couldn’t see another soul in sight.

“We’re just some people who are a bit lost,” Uraraka laughed as she crouched down to get to the child’s height. “What about you? Where’s your mom and dad?”

“Mom and dad?” the child hummed, needing to take some time to think over that question before smiling back at them. “I don’t have one.”

“E-eh?” Uraraka’s jaw dropped. This was an answer neither she nor her classmates had expected. She frantically waved her hands as guilt consumed her. “I’m so sorry! I-I had no idea!”

"Sorry?" the child tested the word as if it was something foreign to them. "Why?"

Uraraka blinked as her hands stopped in midair.

Why? Why what?

However, she couldn’t ask that, as she had already stepped on a landmine. Fortunately, Asui came up to save her.

“Do you have anyone looking after you?” she questioned with a finger to her lips.

“I do!” the child chirped brightly, but then saddened as they slowly swung their legs back and forth. “But I got lost…”

“Do you know their phone number?” Iida asked, already pulling out his phone, “I’ll call them for you.”

“I don’t know...” the child replied, looking unconcerned over not remembering their guardian’s contact number. “But it’s fine! He’ll find me. He always does!”

Everyone exchanged looks. They were all skeptical about this. During their way to the bar, the latter half of their trip was void of any people. No matter how they looked at it, this area was filled with factories and warehouses. Why in the world was there a child so young here all alone in the middle of the night?

Didn’t anyone know how dangerous it was?

"Maybe his dad brought him to the bar or something and forgot about him," Mineta whispered, only to be stabbed in the eyeball by an earphone jack.

"Let's wait around for a bit," Midoriya suggested. “Maybe his guardian is looking around for him.”

"Ah…there goes our curfew time," Kaminari whined jokingly. He understood that finding this kid's guardian takes priority over everything else. He looked around the empty street, “What if they never show up?”

"We can always call the police afterward," Tokoyami stated.

Midoriya walked up to the child and knelt in front of them with the friendliest smile he could muster. "My name is Midoriya Izuku, what’s your name?”

“I’m Kyuusaku!” the kid replied. Those symbol-carrying eyes looked Midoriya up and down, scanning over his body before the kid brightened even more. “You’re the one that broke your arms and legs!”

Arms and legs?

Midoriya recalled the foreigner he met when he was handing out the flyers earlier today. “You watched the Sports Festival?”

Everyone was surprised, but then remembered that the people here had access to the outside channels.

“So you watch the Sports Festival!” Kaminari laughed as he crouched down in front of the kid and pointed at himself. “Then do you remember me?”

Kyuusaku shook his head, still smiling so brightly that Kaminari didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“….Don’t mind," Asui patted his shoulder.

"Did you enjoy the Sports festival?" Jirou asked.

Kyuusaku nodded, “It looked really fun! I wish I could play too…”

“Oh! Do you wish to become a Hero in the future?” Iida asked excitedly.

“Hero?” Kyuusaku blinked. They stared at Iida with wide eyes before the child suddenly burst out into laughter, as if Iida had spoken the most hilarious joke they’ve ever heard. “No way!”

Everyone just stared at the child in confusion, then to each other. None of them were able to understand the joke.

“Big brother, do you like Stain?” Kyuusaku asked, mismatched eyes locking onto Iida.

Everyone froze at the name none of them had expected to hear coming out of this kid's mouth. They automatically looked towards Iida, whose face had darkened at the memories of the Villain flickering through his mind.

“Of course we don’t like Stain!” Sero exclaimed, drawing the kid’s attention to him. “He’s a bad guy!”

“Bad guy?” Kyuusaku tilted their head cutely. “Why?”

“Because he does bad things," Sato explained.

“Like what?” the kid pushed on, not noticing the discomfort the teenagers were feeling. There was only pure curiosity on the child’s face.

“Well, like—” Kirishima swiftly caught himself and stopped talking. He couldn’t possibly talk about killing in front of a kid, but even without the redhead saying it out loud, the child already knew the answer.

Kyuusaku smiled at the redhead and finished the words for him. “Like killing?”

Everyone stared at the child who had spoken of killing with such a happy expression.

"Yes…like killing," Yaoyorozu said slowly, eyes darting to her classmates.

“But don’t Heroes kill people too?” Kyuusaku then asked.

“Of course not! Heroes don’t kill people!” Midoriya defended.

At that, Kyuusaku looked genuinely confused as they turned to Midoriya. “So when Heroes fight Villains, they hold back their strength?”

“Well, no—”

“So you don’t hold back?” the boy asked, not even bothering to wait for Sato to finish.

"When Heroes fight, we use our strength to save people," Iida told the boy. "It's not about holding back or not."

“So you fight with all your strength?” Kyuusaku giggled. “Then how do you know you won’t kill the bad people?”

Some of the students opened their mouths but found that they couldn't answer the question.

"I saw a bad person die on TV. He died when fighting Heroes." Kyuusaku told them, still smiling.

“That’s not killing,” Todoroki tried to explain.

“But someone died?”

"Yes, but those are accidents," Shouji told the boy. “It couldn’t be helped. In a fight against Villains, there are always innocent bystanders getting caught in between. A Hero’s job is to—”

“But killing is killing,” the kid stated. “No matter what reason it is, you still killed someone.”

“Kyuusaku-chan…do you like Stain?” Yaoyorozu couldn't help but ask. The child's thought process was so…well, weird. How could a child talk about killing so easily? No, it’s because they’re a child that they didn’t understand the gravity of what their words meant. Considering the amount of influence the Hero Killer brought, Yaoyorozu wouldn't be surprised if Kyuusaku, much like many others in Japan, could understand Stain’s motive.

She wasn’t the only one thinking this way. Everyone else was expecting the kid to answer yes, given the conversation they just had. But to everyone’s surprise, the warm smile on Kyuusaku’s face dropped for the first time. On that kid’s face was an expression of pure confusion as those large eyes blinked up at them.

"No," Kyuusaku answered, as if it should be obvious. “He’s just a murderer that needed excuses to kill people. Why would I like him?”

Kyuusaku’s voice and tone were purely innocent. There was no mockery, no laughter…nothing. The child’s voice only held confusion over why they even asked that.

Everyone was taken back by the child’s response. Never had they heard anyone describe Stain like that. When Stain’s name first came around, the only things discussed were his actions and the current state of Heroes. There had been many debates over whether or not Stain’s actions were right, but so blatantly calling Stain a murderer was…something else.

“Kyuusaku-chan, what do you mean by that?” Asui asked with a frown on her lips.

“Isn’t it true though?” Kyuusaku jumped down from the bench and landed onto their feet. A bright smile lifted the corner of their lips. “He just wants to kill, yet he justified his actions by making a grand excuse. Isn’t that funny?”

“Justified…?” Midoriya stared at Kyuusaku. What is this kid even talking about?

The rest of the class wasn’t doing any better. They stared at the kid strangely as if they couldn’t understand the words coming from the kid’s mouth. This was no longer weird—it wasn’t normal.

“Hey, let’s play a game!” Kyuusaku suddenly changed the topic as they walked up to the U.A students. “I haven’t played a game in a long time! Won’t you play with me?”

Midoriya opened and closed his mouth. He was still trying to wrap his head around what this child had just said.

“S-sure, what do you want to play?” Hagakure hurriedly asked when the silence dragged on for a bit too long.

Everyone was now looking at the child weirdly. There was something not right with this kid. Despite that, none of them saw Kyuusaku as a threat. What they were beginning to worry about was this child’s environment.

Just what kind of environment gave the child such a skewed viewpoint? Kyuusaku did say they don’t have parents, but what about the guardian? Was this child perhaps neglected?

Many of them were already compensating on whether or not to call the police, but then Kyuusaku spoke.

“Let’s play tag!”

“Oh! Tag! That’s a great game!” Sero laughed, trying to brighten the weird tension in the air. “I’m super good at tag!”

“We can play in that park!” Ashido said, pointing to the park right next to them. Even if there weren’t any cars around, playing on the street was still dangerous.

“Alright! Who will be it?” Kaminari asked as he looked around.

“What’s an it?” Kyuusaku suddenly asked, causing everyone to look at the child in surprise.

“Kyuusaku-chan, have you not played tag before?” Asui asked carefully.

The young child shook their head, “I’ve only seen other people play it.”

“…I haven’t either.” Todoroki suddenly spoke up, frowning as he looked at the child.

Everyone stared between Todoroki and Kyuusaku while Midoriya’s eyes widened.

He looked over to the young kid. Could it be that this child had a similar childhood to Todoroki? No, rather than saying it's similar, it's more like…

“The it is the person that catches the other people," Ojiro explained as he walked up to crouch by the child. "They catch people by tapping them. If you get tagged by the it, you’re out.”

“What happens when you’re out?” Kyuusaku asked.

“Then you have to sit and wait until the it catches everyone. After that, the game restarts.” Tokoyami finished the explanation.

“Then I want to be it!” Kyuusaku said happily before reaching their hand out and tapping Ojiro on the shoulder. “You’re out!”

No one bothered to correct the child on how they should be given time to run. The moment Kyuusaku announced this, everyone ran off, squealing and giggling like little kids. Ojiro just laughed as he scratched his cheek, not minding how quickly he got thrown out of the game.

“Do I have to run after them?” Kyuusaku blinked as they watched the older kids run away.

“Yes, if you want to catch them?” Ojiro replied unsurely. "You don't like to run?"

"No, it's just running hurts," Kyuusaku replied. They didn’t sound sad or anything…just stating a fact.

Ojiro’s eyes automatically dropped to the child’s legs. Since the kid was wearing shorts, he was able to get a good look at slender legs lacking any form of muscle. Aside from the kid being a little thin, there didn't seem to be anything wrong. Maybe they sprained their ankle? Was that why they were sitting on a bench?

Believing that he had found the answer, Ojiro turned to his classmates who were scattered on the grass. They hadn’t gone far and were all waiting for the child to begin chasing them.

“Come on, Kyuusaku-chan!” Uraraka called as she waved her hand at them.

“Guys!” Ojiro called, successfully grabbing their attention.

“What’s wrong, man?” Kirishima asked, about to walk up when he stepped on a tiny twig lying in the grass.

Snap

“…!”

Ojiro heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. He turned and saw Kyuusaku standing there, trembling with wide eyes locked on Kirishima. Those irises were dilated and unsteady…there were even droplets of sweats rolling down the kid’s face despite how chilly the night was.

Those small hands were gripping onto his doll so tightly that they were shaking and white around the knuckles.

“Kyuusaku…?” Ojiro called out gently, but the kid didn’t even seem to have heard him. Their breathing was growing faster and faster. The time between each breath was also getting dangerously short, to the point where Ojiro thought they might hyperventilate.

The other kids noticed this as well and they all began to run over. Their footsteps thundered across the grass and somewhere amongst those footsteps, another twig snapped, causing the boy to completely freeze in place, his breathing stopped altogether.

“Kyuusaku?” Ojiro reached out both hands and grabbed the child’s forearms, hoping to snap the kid out of whatever shock they were in. The moment his hands made contact, he felt something very wrong. There were multiple hard objects under his palms sinking into the kid’s arms from the pressure of his grip.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!”

Kyuusaku suddenly let out an ear-piercing scream, pushing Ojiro away and stumbled back, clutching onto the doll even tighter.

“NOOO!!!” They shrieked, voice cracking as pale fingers sank into the fabric of the doll, pulling on the surface of the fabric so hard that some of the white stuffing was being squeezed out. “NO! NO! NOOOO!!!”

“Kyuusaku-chan?!” Yaoyorozu wanted to approach, but was afraid she might agitate the child even more.

“What’s wrong?” Midoriya spoke loudly, hoping his voice could be heard through the child’s screams.

“IT’s aLL YouR fAuLt!!” Kyuusaku screamed, face morphing into what could only be described as pure malice. The doll trapped in his grip was beginning to move, but no one noticed as their eyes were all locked on the child’s face.

“I’LL cUrsE yOU! I’ll CURSE—!!”

“Q!!”

A voice bellowed from the distance, causing Kyuusaku to freeze up.

For a long moment, nobody could move. They all stared at Kyuusaku with cold sweat rolling down their faces.

What…what was that?

What exactly was that?

The sound of footsteps slowly brought the students back. One by one, they turned around to see a person emerging from the dark alleyway. He was covered in a long, black leather coat with white fur around the base of his collar.

Silvery white hair fluttered in the gentle breeze as the person slowly stepped into the light. They couldn’t see much of his face, as half of it was covered by his coat’s tall collar, but the way those golden eyes seemed to glow in the dim streetlight was unnerving.

He looked young… not much older than Class 1-A.

“A…Atsushi!” Kyuusaku seemed terrified as they clenched onto the old doll.

"What were you going to do, Q?" the white-haired boy questioned.

“I-I wasn’t doing anything!” Kyuusaku gasped, sounding desperate as they ran up to the young man. They reached out a small hand and gripped onto his black coat. “I wasn’t, so—”

When those golden eyes narrowed, Kyuusaku swallowed down the rest of the words. They clutched the doll tighter to their chest and spoke in a desperate voice.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again! So…don’t leave me!”

The white-haired boy’s gaze softened a little before shifting to the students.

“Thank you for taking care of this child. I apologize for the trouble,” he said, nodding in their direction before turning to leave.

“Wait!”

Upon being called, the man stopped and turned around. His golden eyes met with Midoriya’s green ones.

“Are you…” Midoriya hesitated, eyes darting down to Kyuusaku then back to the stranger. “Kyuusaku’s guardian?”

“I am,” the other replied naturally. That didn’t seem to be a lie…and from how Kyuusaku interacted with this man, he was most likely the child’s guardian. However, it was precisely because of this that Midoriya needed to stop them.

"Do you have any identification to prove that you're that child's guardian?" Iida asked, looking at the man with a face full of distrust.

No matter how they looked at it, that interaction just now wasn’t normal. It wasn’t a conversation any ordinary kid would have with their guardian. Kyuusaku was terrified of this man, yet the way they still begged not to be thrown aside was raising red flags in all of their heads.

The images of Kyuusaku’s crazed look were still fresh in their minds, but that only fueled their desire and need to protect this young child. Anyone could tell by now that the kid’s mental stability wasn’t, well, stable. The cause may very well be this person right there.

 “Proof?” The man raised a fine brow as those golden eyes shifted to Iida. The moment their eyes met, Iida felt a droplet of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. He didn’t know why, but something wasn’t right with this person.

“…There is no need for me to prove anything to you,” the white-haired boy said calmly. He turned again and began to walk away.

“Wait!” Kirishima called, but the other didn’t stop. He just kept on walking with Kyuusaku by his side.

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!!” Bakugou roared. He knew he needed to stop them. Something wasn’t right about that guy. He couldn’t let him take the kid. “We’re not done speaking!”

“Don’t yell at Atsushi!” Kyuusaku suddenly spun around and shouted. Those eyes were glaring murderously at Bakugou who stopped in his tracks.

Bakugou was stunned. He couldn’t understand why the kid would defend this man who terrified them like that.

“Q, we’re leaving,” the boy known as Atsushi called. He didn’t look back and continued to walk away, not caring about the group of teenagers behind him.

Kyuusaku ran back to his side, one hand gripping onto the older boy’s jacket as they walked down the abandoned street. From the shadow of the alleyway Atsushi had emerged from, a dagger soundlessly slid back into its sheath as a figure slowly stepped back and vanished into the darkness.

Class 1-A could only watch as the young man and the child disappeared from their sight. None of them were able to stop them.

“We…we have to call sensei!” Aoyama all but screamed after they lost sight of the pair.

“No matter how you look at it, that’s not normal,” Jirou agreed.

“I’m calling right now!” Iida was way ahead of his classmates as he opened his phone, pausing at the contact list. Who should they call? Their teachers? But their teachers were outsiders as well, would they be able to do anything?

So Iida chose the most obvious choice and clicked on Kunikida’s contact. The blond man was the one they were most familiar with. Iida was certain he could save Kyuusaku.

“What’s wrong, Ojiro?” Shouji asked when he noticed Ojiro was still sitting on the floor, the same position he had been in since Kyuusaku pushed him away.

Ojiro didn’t reply, his head dipped low as he stared down at his own hands. When everyone else looked to his hands, they paled at the sight of red fluid covering both of his palms.

“Ojiro-kun! What happened to your hands?!” Midoriya was horrified by the amount of blood that was there.

“It’s not my blood!” Ojiro explained, voice quivering slightly. "When Kyuusaku was screaming, I tried to get him to calm down and gripped his arms, I—"

Ojiro was quickly calming down as he recalled the feeling of what he felt underneath the child’s sleeves. Whatever those were, they were sharp and all over the kid’s arms. No, rather, it felt like his hands were the ones that made those sharp objects sink into the child's flesh.

He quickly explained that to the others.

“Back then…Kyuusaku said that running hurts.” Ojiro felt sick as he finally realized what was wrong. It wasn’t the child’s legs that were hurting, it was his upper body that was hidden beneath his coat. “We have to find him, he might be in danger!”

They should have realized sooner just how incongruent everything about Kyuusaku was!

“Kunikida-san?” Iida spoke and everyone turned to see him on the phone with Kunikida. “We need help! There’s a child and— where are we? Uh…” Iida began looking around, but couldn’t see any road signs indicating their location.

“I know!” Kaminari said as he fumbled with the paper map he used to lead them to the bar.

Iida turned the phone to speaker mode and turned it towards his classmate.

“We’re on—!” Before Kaminari could say the address, Kunikida began to speak.

“That’s alright, I can see where you are on the map,” the blond stated from the other end. “I am not going to start with why all of you are even there. You have forty minutes to come back. I won’t be explaining to your teachers if you miss your curfew time.”

“Kunikida-san! There’s a kid that’s hurt and got taken away by a strange man!” Ashido explained.

“He could be a human trafficker!” Aoyama joined in the background.

“A kid was taken by a strange man?” They could all hear the frown on Kunikida’s face. “By force?”

“No, they walked away together but—” Todoroki tried to pipe in, but was interrupted by Kunikida.

“Forget it.”

“Eh?” Ashido blinked, as if unable to believe she had heard right. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I meant.” Kunikida said on the other end. “If you don’t know how to get back, stay put. I’ll come to get you.”

“Wait!” Midoriya yelled. “There’s an injured child who might be in danger!”

A sigh came from the other end of the line.

“Yokohama is not the outside world,” Kunikida reminded the group. “Don't stick your nose into places where it doesn't belong.”

“That’s got nothing to do with anything!” Bakugou shouted. “Did you not hear a fucking word we said?! There’s a kid—”

“And I’m telling you to forget about this kid,” the man sighed “Use your brains, would any ordinary kid appear in such an isolated place so late at night?"

“That’s why we need to help!” Yaoyorozu said, as if it was the most obvious thing. “Something isn’t right and that child could be in danger! He’s bleeding!”

Another sigh. “You know what, this is going nowhere. Just stay there and don’t move around. I’m coming to pick you up.”

Click

Just like that, Kunikida hung up, leaving the kids staring in shock and disbelief.

“What the fuck?!” Bakugou hollered, voicing out everyone’s thoughts in three short words.

Iida gritted his teeth, hands gripping tightly onto his phone before he began dialing again.

“What are you doing?” Tokoyami asked.

“The police!” Iida answered, typing in the numbers before putting the phone over his ear. He reached the helpline fairly quickly. Everyone watched hopefully as Iida explained the situation to the operator.

“It’s Kyuusaku, sir!” Iida said into the phone. “Surname? I don’t know...gender? A boy maybe? No, I don’t know for sure—we just met in the park!”

Iida seemed to be panicking as he struggled to converse with the other side. Everyone just watched as his responses grew weaker and weaker.

“Well, yes, that person claimed to be their guardian but—…yes…yes…they left together.” After that, Iida didn’t say anything. He just waited for the other side to finish before he slowly pulled the phone away from his ear.

“They…” Iida opened and closed his mouth a few times before he could finally utter the words. “They said they can’t do anything.”

“What…do you mean?” Uraraka asked. “A child’s being taken—”

“Kyuusaku-kun walked away by himself," Iida told everyone. "And that person said he’s Kyuusaku-kun’s guardian. The operator said the police won’t get involved unless we can provide proof that he was being taken away against his will.”

“What?!” Ashido was outraged. “What kind of response is that?!”

“How can…are we just going to let it happen?!” Sato spluttered.

For the first time since arriving, the kids felt the malice within Yokohama. This was wrong! This whole city was wrong! How could they all turn a blind eye to someone—a child — that needed help? No matter how they looked at it, it’s just not normal!

“I’m going.” Midoriya suddenly announced.

“Deku-kun?!” Uraraka gasped.

“Kyuusaku needs help, and I can’t turn a blind eye to it,” he said as his hands rolled into tight fists. Questions flooded through his mind as he kept replaying their conversation with Kunikida.

Why?

Why did he refuse to help even when there was someone in need of help? Wasn’t the Armed Detective Agency there to help people?

Midoriya didn’t understand, but one thing that’s clear was that no one was going to save Kyuusaku.

“It might be dangerous!” Aoyama whimpered. “Kunikida-san told us to stay put, and we can’t use our Quirks!”

“I’m just going to follow them and find out where they went,” Midoriya explained. “If I can find their location, then we can call the police and have them do something, right?”

“That’s true,” Sero agreed. “They want proof right? If they go take a look for themselves I’m sure they’ll find something wrong!”

“But you saw how Kyuusaku-chan defended that person,” Yaoyorozu pointed out.

“We can’t just do nothing!” Ojiro was the most affected by the situation due to the child’s blood staining his hands.

“I agree with Midoriya,” Todoroki said. “I’m going as well.”

“I’m coming too!” Bakugou announced, still grinding his teeth in irritation at the thought of that man. “There’s something off about that guy.”

“You guys can’t all go! You’ll get found out!” Hagakure said as she pulled off her gloves and threw them onto the floor. “How about this, I’ll go with Midoriya-kun! Since they can’t see me, I can scout the area without getting seen!”

“But your Quirk—” Sato began, only to get cut off.

“I’m not using my Quirk! I’m just naturally like this!”

Well, she wasn’t wrong about that. 

“I’ll go with them!” Jirou said. “Even if I can’t use my quirk, I can still hear better than average people.”

“I’ll go with you too,” Shouji walked over to Midoriya. “If anything happens, I can take everyone and run.”

“Then I’ll—” Kirishima also wanted to volunteer, but was stopped by Bakugou.

“Any more and the enemy will notice, stupid,” he pointed out.

“We have enemies now?” the blond gaped.

“Thank you, Shouji-kun, Hagakure-san, Jirou-san,” Midoriya thanked the three. He knew he was being selfish, and he knew that it was going to be dangerous. Whoever that white haired male was, Midoriya could tell he wasn’t anyone ordinary.

Everyone else knew as well, that’s why none of them could turn a blind eye to Kyuusaku’s situation.

“Fifteen minutes,” Iida finally gritted out. Anyone could tell he strongly disapproved of it, but he also wanted to save Kyuusaku more than anyone else. “If you don’t come back in fifteen minutes, we will call the teachers and Kunikida-san.”

“Yeah,” Midoriya nodded.

“Here, take this phone.” Yaoyorozu held out her phone. “It seems there are trackers on the phone for Kunikida-san to find us. I’ve turned off the sound just in case. If anything happens, we can find you.”

“Thank you, Yaoyorozu,” Jirou said as she took the phone.

Ashido also handed the phone she carried to Hagakure, while Midoriya and Shouji took out their own phones and muted them.

“Don’t do anything dangerous, ok?” Uraraka told them.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back before you guys know it!” Hagakure said cheerfully, though no one could see her aside from the pair of shoes still on her feet.

Just like that, the four of them took off, running towards where the man had disappeared off to with Kyuusaku.

As the rest of the class watched them go, Asui let out a small croak from the back of her throat and looked up to the cloudy sky. A cold droplet of water came out of nowhere and fell onto her left cheek.

“Gero?”

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[star-anise]

do you have any sources on the claims you made? im always willing to change my stance if you have legitimate backing for it haha

So first, I’m sorry for blowing up at you the way that I did. I’m not proud that I reacted in such a kneejerk, aggressive fashion. Thank you for being open to hearing what I have to say. I’m sorry for mistaking you for a TERF, and I’m sorry my response has caused other people to direct their own hostility towards you.

So, here’s the thing. “You can’t call bi women femmes” is pretty intrinsically a radfem thing to say, and I am deeply opposed to letting radfems tell me what to do. I’m trying to write this during a weekend packed with childcare and work. I’ll try to hit all the high notes.

The one thing I am having trouble finding is the longass post I talked about in my reply, that was a history of butch/femme relationships in lesbian bars, which had frequent biphobic asides and talked about “the lesbophobic myth of the bi-rejecting lesbian”; the friend who reblogged it without reading it thoroughly has deleted it, and I can’t find it on any of the tags she remembers looking at around that time. If anyone can find it, I’ll put up a link.

As far as possible, I’m linking to really widely accessible sources, because you shouldn’t intrinsically trust a random post on Tumblr as secret privileged knowledge. People have talked about this at length in reputable publications that your local library either has, or can get through interlibrary loan; you can look up any of the people here, read their work, and decide for yourself. This is a narrative of perspectives, and while I obviously have a perspective, many people disagree with me. At the end of the day, the only reason I need for calling bi women femmes is that You Are Not The Boss Of Me. There is no centralized authority on LGBT+ word usage, nor do I think there should be. Hopefully this post will give you a better sense of what the arguments are, and how to evaluate peoples’ claims in the future.

I looked up “butch” and “femme” with my library’s subscription to the Oxford English Dictionary because that’s where you find the most evidence of etymology and early use, and found:

“Femme” is the French word for “woman”.  It’s been a loanword in English for about 200 years, and in the late 19th century in America it was just a slangy word for “women”, as in, “There were lots of femmes there for the boys to dance with”

“Butch” has been used in American English to mean a tough, masculine man since the late 19th century; in the 1930s and 1940s it came to apply to a short masculine haircut, and shortly thereafter, a woman who wore such a haircut. It’s still used as a nickname for masculine cis guys–my godfather’s name is Martin, but his family calls him Butch. By the 1960s in Britain, “butch” was slang for the penetrating partner of a pair of gay men.

Butch/femme as a dichotomy for women arose specifically in the American lesbian bar scene around, enh, about the 1940s, to enh, about the 1960s. Closet-keys has a pretty extensive butch/femme history reader. This scene was predominantly working-class women, and many spaces in it were predominantly for women of colour. This was a time when “lesbian” literally meant anyone who identified as a woman, and who was sexually or romantically interested in other women. A lot of the women in these spaces were closeted in the rest of their lives, and outside of their safe spaces, they had to dress normatively, were financially dependent on husbands, etc. Both modern lesbians, and modern bisexual women, can see themselves represented in this historical period.

These spaces cross-pollinated heavily with ball culture and drag culture, and were largely about working-class POC creating spaces where they could explore different gender expressions, gender as a construct and a performance, and engage in a variety of relationships. Butch/femme was a binary, but it worked as well as most binaries to do with sex and gender do, which is to say, it broke down a lot, despite the best efforts of people to enforce it. It became used by people of many different genders and orientations whose common denominator was the need for safety and discretion. “Butch” and “femme” were words with meanings, not owners.

Lesbianism as distinct from bisexuality comes from the second wave of feminism, which began in, enh, the 1960s, until about, enh, maybe the 1980s, maybe never by the way Tumblr is going. “Radical” feminism means not just that this is a new and more exciting form of feminism compared to the early 20th century suffrage movement; as one self-identified radfem professor of mine liked to tell us every single lecture, it shares an etymology with the word “root”, meaning that sex discrimination is at the root of all oppression.

Radical feminism blossomed among college-educated women, which also meant, predominantly white, middle- or upper-class women whose first sexual encounters with women happened at elite all-girls schools or universities. Most of these women broke open the field of “women’s studies” and the leading lights of radical feminism often achieved careers as prominent scholars and tenured professors.

Radical feminism established itself as counter to “The Patriarchy”, and one of the things many early radfems believed was, all men were the enemy. All men perpetuated patriarchy and were damaging to women. So the logical decision was for women to withdraw from men in all manner and circumstances–financially, legally, politically, socially, and sexually. “Political lesbianism” wasn’t united by its sexual desire for women; many of its members were asexual, or heterosexual women who decided to live celibate lives. This was because associating with men in any form was essentially aiding and abetting the enemy.

Look, I’ll just literally quote Wikipedia quoting an influential early lesbian separatist/radical feminist commune: “The Furies recommended that Lesbian Separatists relate “only (with) women who cut their ties to male privilege” and suggest that “as long as women still benefit from heterosexuality, receive its privileges and security, they will at some point have to betray their sisters, especially Lesbian sisters who do not receive those benefits”“

This cross-pollinated with the average experience of WLW undergraduates, who were attending school at a time when women weren’t expected to have academic careers; college for women was primarily seen as a place to meet eligible men to eventually marry. So there were definitely women who had relationships with other women, but then, partly due to the pressure of economic reality and heteronormativity, married men. This led to the phrase LUG, or “lesbian until graduation”, which is the kind of thing that still got flung at me in the 00s as an openly bisexual undergrad. Calling someone a LUG was basically an invitation to fight.

The assumption was that women who marry men when they’re 22, or women who don’t stay in the feminist academic sphere, end up betraying their ideals and failing to have solidarity with their sisters. Which seriously erases the many contributions of bi, het, and ace women to feminism and queer liberation. For one, I want to point to Brenda Howard, the bisexual woman who worked to turn Pride from the spontaneous riots in 1969 to the nationwide organized protests and parades that began in 1970 and continue to this day. She spent the majority of her life to a male partner, but that didn’t diminish her contribution to the LGBT+ community.

Lesbian separatists, and radical feminists, hated Butch/Femme terminology. They felt it was a replication of unnecessarily heteronormative ideals. Butch/femme existed in an LGBT+ context, where gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgender people understood themselves to have more in common with each other than with, say, cis feminists who just hated men more than they loved women. 

The other main stream of feminist thought at the time was Liberal Feminism, which was like, “What if we can change society without totally rejecting men?” and had prominent figures like Gloria Steinem, who ran Ms magazine. Even today, you’ll hear radfems railing against “libfems” and I’m like, my good women, liberal feminism got replaced thirty years ago. Please update your internal schema of “the enemy”

Lesbian separatism was… plagued by infighting. To maintain a “woman-only” space, they had to kick out trans women (thus, TERFs), women who slept with men (thus, biphobia), women who enjoyed kinky sex or pornography or engaged in sex work (thus, SWERFS) and they really struggled to raise their male children in a way that was… um… anti-oppressive. (I’m biased; I know people who were raised in lesbian separatist communes and did not have great childhoods.) At the same time, they had other members they very much wanted to keep, even though their behaviour deviated from the expected program, so you ended up with spectacles like Andrea Dworkin self-identifying as a lesbian despite being deeply in love with and married to a self-identified gay man for twenty years, despite beng famous for the theory that no woman could ever have consensual sex with a man, because all she could ever do was acquiesce to her own rape.

There’s a reason radical feminism stopped being a major part of the public discourse, and also a reason why it survives today: While its proponents became increasingly obsolete, they were respected scholars and tenured university professors. This meant people like Camille Paglia and Mary Daly, despite their transphobia and racism, were considered important people to read and guaranteed jobs educating young people who had probably just moved into a space where they could meet other LGBT people for the very first time. So a lot of modern LGBT people (including me) were educated by radical feminist professors or assigned radical feminist books to read in class.

The person I want to point to as a great exemplar is Alison Bechdel, a white woman who discovered she was a lesbian in college, was educated in the second-wave feminist tradition, but also identified as a butch and made art about the butch/femme dichotomy’s persistence and fluidity. You can see part of that tension in her comic; she knows the official lesbian establishment frowns on butch/femme divisions, but it’s relevant to her lived experience.

What actually replaced radical feminism was not liberal feminism, but intersectional feminism and the “Third Wave”. Black radical feminists, like Audre Lorde, bell hooks, and Kimberlé Williams Crenshaw, pointed out that many white radical feminists were ignoring race as a possible cause of oppression, and failing to notice how their experiences differed from Black womens’. Which led to a proliferation of feminists talking about other oppressions they faced: Disabled feminists, Latina feminists, queer feminists, working-class feminists. It became clear that even if you eliminated the gender binary from society, there was still a lot of bad shit that you had to unlearn–and also, a lot of oppression that still happened in lesbian separatist spaces.

I’ve talked before about how working in women-only second-wave spaces really destroyed my faith in them and reinforced my belief in intersectional feminism

Meanwhile, back in the broader queer community, “queer” stuck as a label because how people identified was really fluid. Part of it is that you learn by experience, and sometimes the only way to know if something works for you is to try it out, and part of it is that, as society changed, a lot more people became able to take on new identities without as much fear. So for example, you have people like Pat Califia, who identified as a lesbian in the 70s and 80s, found far more in common with gay leather daddies than sex-negative lesbians, and these days identifies as a bisexual trans man.

Another reason radical feminists hate the word “queer”, by the way, is queer theory, which wants to go beyond the concept of men oppressing women, or straights oppressing gays, but to question this entire system we’ve built, of sex, and gender, and orientation. It talks about “queering” things to mean “to deviate from heteronormativity” more than “to be homosexual”. A man who is married to a woman, who stays at home and raises their children while she works, is viewed as “queer” inasmuch as he deviates from heteronormativity, and is discriminated against for it.

So, I love queer theory, but I will agree that it can be infuriating to hear somebody say that as a single (cis het) man he is “queer” in the same way being a trans lesbian of colour is “queer”, and get very upset and precious about being told they’re not actually the same thing. I think that actually, “queer as a slur” originated as the kind of thing you want to scream when listening to too much academic bloviating, like, “This is a slur! Don’t reclaim it if it didn’t originally apply to you! It’s like poor white people trying to call themselves the n-word!” so you should make sure you are speaking about a group actually discriminated against before calling them “queer”. On the other hand, queer theory is where the theory of “toxic masculinity” came from and we realized that we don’t have to eliminate all men from the universe to reduce gender violence; if we actually pay attention to the pressures that make men so shitty, we can reduce or reverse-engineer them and encourage them to be better, less sexist, men.

But since radfems and queer theorists are basically mortal enemies in academia, radical feminists quite welcomed the “queer as a slur” phenomenon as a way to silence and exclude people they wanted silenced and excluded, because frankly until that came along they’ve been losing the culture wars.

This is kind of bad news for lesbians who just want to float off to a happy land of only loving women and not getting sexually harrassed by men. As it turns out, you can’t just turn on your lesbianism and opt out of living in society. Society will follow you wherever you go. If you want to end men saying gross things to lesbians, you can’t just defend lesbianism as meaning “don’t hit on me”; you have to end men saying gross things to all women, including bi and other queer women.  And if you do want a lesbian-only space, you either have to accept that you will have to exclude and discriminate against some people, including members of your community whose identities or partners change in the future, or accept that the cost of not being a TERF and a biphobe is putting up with people in your space whose desires don’t always resemble yours.

Good god, this got extensive and I’ve been writing for two hours.

So here’s the other thing.

My girlfriend is a femme bi woman. She’s married to a man.

She’s also married to two women.

And dating a man.

And dating me (a woman).

When you throw monogamy out the window, it becomes EVEN MORE obvious that “being married to a man” does not exclude a woman from participation in the queer community as a queer woman, a woman whose presentation is relevant in WLW contexts. Like, this woman is in more relationships with women at the moment than some lesbians on this site have been in for their entire lives.

You can start out with really clear-cut ideas about “THIS is what my life is gonna be like” but then your best friend’s sexual orientation changes, or your lover starts to transition, and things in real life are so much messier than they look when you’re planning your future. It’s easy to be cruel, exclusionary, or dismissive to people you don’t know; it’s a lot harder when it’s people you have real relationships with.

And my married-to-a-man girlfriend? Uses “butch” and “femme” for reasons very relevant to her queerness and often fairly unique to femme bi women, like, “I was out with my husband and looking pretty femme, so I guess they didn’t clock me as a queer” or “I was the least butch person there, so they didn’t expect me to be the only one who uses power tools.” Being a femme bi woman is a lot about invisibility, which is worth talking about as a queer experience instead of being assumed to exclude us from the queer community.