#dc#dc comics#batman#dick grayson#bruce wayne#tim drake#batfamily#batfam#dc fanart
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the institute will host its annual Leti Photonics Workshop at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art from 5:30-7:00 p.m., Jan. 29.
pay attention to key words.
MY HANSUNGU PORTAL : logged in as ahn yumi.
student name : ahn yumi. preferred name : yumi. date of birth : 12/13/1996. occupation : student, influencer.
enrollment status.
program : b.a. in broadcasting & entertainment. status : sophomore. clubs : yongmaru (publicity officer). sports : none. housing : off-campus.
student history.
keep your chin up. push your shoulders back. smile for the camera.
ahn yumi was born in dallas, texas but she doesn’t call that place home. her mother and father split when she was five years old, and she moved to korea with her father after the divorce.
unfortunately, her father was barely at home. when she was young, he would often leave her with his parents to look after her. however, as yumi got older, she stayed home, practically having to raise herself.
although she acknowledges his absence was due to him working hard to provide yumi a comfortable life, she holds a grudge. there were too many moments he missed that she just couldn't get over.
after high school, she rebelled against her father's wishes. he wanted her to go and study at a prestigious university, but instead yumi decided not to go to college and pursue modeling. she had a desire to be famous; to finally be seen.
although yumi found some success at first shooting pictorials, her height proved to be the deciding factor in why she wasn’t cast in runway shows. while she is taller than the average korean woman, she isn't tall enough to walk the runway for major brands.
it frustrated her pretty much always being turned away for castings. so yumi worked odd jobs for a while before putting her talents to use and opening up an instagram and youtube dedicated to fashion and life. she effectively became an influencer, and even though that paid the bills for a while, she decided she wanted to be more than just a pretty face.
yumi eventually enrolled at hansung. knowing that the classes were easy and that she wouldn't be turned down from the university, it was a no brainer to get her degree from there.
MY HANSUNGU PORTAL : logged in as im sehun.
student name : im sehun. preferred name : sehun. date of birth : 11/04/1996. occupation : student, part-timer.
enrollment status.
program : b.a. in journalism. status : senior. clubs : hansung times (president). sports : basketball. housing : y-house / floor 1, unit 3.
student history.
no matter what he does, sehun feels like he never quite gets the smell of sesame oil out of his hair. the most terrifying realization was when he buried his face in his pillow, the deafening concert of the cicadas blaring through the window as he recognized the same smell in his linen pillow case. from then on he stopped dropping his aching body onto his bed right after his shift at the restaurant, even though every weary bone yearned for the comfort of the mattress. instead, he let the burning hot shower stream perform a factory reset on him, his brain idle but somehow running at 100 miles per hour simultaneously.
roaring laughter was what he earned from his father whenever he claimed soju to taste bitter. “it’s sweet! you’ll get used to the taste,“ was the standard answer and sehun learned better than to disagree. the fault did not lie in the clear liquor. the sweetest strawberries, the most sour gummies, the richest red wine, the spiciest chicken - they all left a bitter taste on his tongue.
the same bitterness seethed in his gastric acid whenever he heard his friends speak about the college entrance exams. there was no vocabulary poignant enough to convey his envy when they voiced their complaints over tough practice questions, late hours at the hakwon and the carpal tunnel all the writing had given them. “it doesn’t have to be snu,“ he begged his parents. any university would have been fine, he would have moved to daegu if necessary, the tuition at daegu national university was affordable. his pleas fell on deaf ears, the answer was always a firm no. blood, sweat and tears had been poured into the family restaurant and all three im children had to carry their weight. it had to stay within the family, not given to someone who would run it into the ground, but someone who knows it inside out.
when his friends frequented the restaurant and threatened to empty out the entire soju stock in one evening, sehun cooked with his lips tightly pressed shut. they did not smell like sesame oil, they smelled like the ink on their hands. he must have been warped into some sick and twisted alternative universe, one where every korean parent urged their child to attend the best university of the country except for his own. they cared little for the grades on his report card, it was more important that he learned the cash register system or the secret recipe for their kimchi jeon.
sehun did not hate the place. the two moons was decently popular enough among locals to have regulars and interesting enough for tourists to frequent and take pictures for their instagram account. hell, perhaps he would have studied business and management and taken over the restaurant at one point anyway. but he could not help but see a metaphor in the way he routinely poured leftover samgyetang from a guest who did not finish his meal down the drain. wasted efforts.
funnily enough it was the indifference towards his academic success that fueled the fire within him, as if challenged to prove himself. one year later than his friends he took the college entrance exam. his handwriting was nearly unintelligible thanks to his shaking hand, not out of fear of getting something wrong, but out of fear he might actually pass. with a ringing in his earss and stars in his vision he read the congratulatory letter, somehow feeling like this confession was even worse than that one time he accidentally kicked a ball through the neighbor’s window.
after his last shift, he scrubbed his skin until it turned red and washed his scalp to the point of a headache to get rid of the sesame oil smell. the news were not taken well and he blocked out his mother’s wailing as he packed his bags for seoul. mother’s wailing, father’s huff, brother’s remarks, sister’s hissing. no one accompanied him to the train station, no one bid him farewell. perhaps it was better this way, a first step to get used to the loneliness, to the quiet and the unknown.
“you’re so idealistic it’s almost childish,” was his brother’s snide commentary about his chosen major. maybe it was ridiculous to assume sehun could change the world with incisive, ruthless journalism, but someone in this family had to strive for something bigger. hansung revealed an unknown side to him, one he was almost scared to uncover. when he used to stand over the stove stoically, watching the broth in the pot simmer with expressionless eyes, he now found his passion in debating, in team sports, in assignments and presentation. and yet, oddly enough, laughter has become less frequent, he cannot remember the last time he laughed until he ran out of breath. some days he gives it his al, stays late at the study hall till everyone btu the janitor has left, sometimes he is barely mentally present, plagued with a bad conscience over leaving home. he is unhappy with either.
everything has changed and yet everything is the same. he bounces between classes, clubs and his dorm, pours himself a beer now instead of guests. now at 26, dreams are just that, dreams. how could it be any different?
MY HANSUNGU PORTAL : logged in as ahn yumi.
student name : ahn yumi. preferred name : yumi. date of birth : 12/13/1996. occupation : full-time student.
enrollment status.
program : b.a. in broadcasting & entertainment. status : sophomore. clubs : yongmaru (publicity officer). sports : none. housing : off-campus.
student history.
keep your chin up. push your shoulders back. smile for the camera.
following in the steps of your parents should be easier, right? unfortunately for yumi, the road ahead proved to be difficult.
yumi was born in dallas, texas but she doesn’t call that place home. she only lived there for the first five years of her life and can’t even speak english. she’s the only child to a family of entertainers, not just her immediate family, but extending to distant relatives.
starting at the age of seven yumi started modeling for various children’s clothing brands. she very quickly learned how to behave and what it really took to make it in the harsh environment that is south korea’s entertainment industry.
although yumi is a bit taller than the average korean woman, her height proved to be the deciding factor in why she wasn’t cast in runway shows. as she grew older, the number of pictorials she was able to book slowly diminished as brands turned to more well known figures like idols to represent their brands.
at the age of fourteen, yumi’s parents devised a plan to enroll her as a trainee at the company her dad worked for in order to continue their legacy.
even though she may have been able to get in on her own merit since had taken some acting, dancing, and singing lessons growing up (her mom said it made her look well-rounded to talent agents), her parents took it into their own hands. one bribe later and yumi was set to debut in the company’s newest girl group. however, the debut date kept getting pushed further and further back due to various reasons, and suddenly yumi too old to debut. she was only nineteen years old, but she was effectively kicked out.
soon after, the company went bankrupt. various rumors emerged (some even referencing her father) but nothing was proven true about why the company dissolved.
she found herself jobless and with no real-world skills. her parents gave up on her and moved back to the states, effectively disowning her. yumi worked odd jobs for a while before putting her talents to use and opening up an instagram and youtube dedicated to fashion and daily life. she effectively became an influencer, and even though that paid the bills for a while, she decided she wanted to be more than just a pretty face.
MY HANSUNGU PORTAL : logged in as yoo yerim.
student name : yoo yerim. preferred name : ume. date of birth : 09/05/2000. occupation : student, record shop clerk.
enrollment status.
program : b.a. in mass communications & media. status : sophomore. clubs : whl89.4, debate. sports : none. housing : m-house / floor 2, unit 1.
student history.
› › › from: yoo yerim <[email protected]>
to: professor kim yoojung (head of communications department)
date: 21st february 2022, 02:03:02 kst
subject: RE: I’m not asking: I’m begging.
good evening, professor kim, i hope this e-mail finds you well.
as you may know since you're the one who graciously gave me the grade, i would like for you to take deep consideration of turning my 60% on last week's assignment to at least... 80%? if that's aiming too high, 70% would suffice?
now... you may be asking, why would i give my precious, (cough) favorite (cough) student, ume, a 80%?
here are three reasons why i think i deserve to re-do the assignment.
first: i had 10,000 won stolen out of my backpack. i mean... this is already a crime in and of itself, but guess where i was mugged... outside of the infamously broke blue house. maybe they're collecting a fund to finally have bed frames, who knows! i was petrified in fear, there was no way that i could've ever recovered from something so traumatic. sympathy is the one thing professors can benefit from, giving their students a second chance to right their wrongs... give them a fair chance at redemption. what would this world be if not for second chances?
second: i'm a top student in our program. do i probably have an underlying mental disorder that most likely stems from my deeply rooted fear of inadequacy and failure? or maybe because i'm a virgo? maybe so! it's not my fault that i'm slowly cultivating my brain to be an exceptional ecosystem for worms and brain fog. i'm just in my "flop era". maybe it's not academic language, but i'm asking for some humanity here. i'm single handedly going through maybe the worst time of my life and i need this. i can't accept this grade.
third: i'm your daughter. i'm begging you, mom.
MY HANSUNGU PORTAL : logged in as lee dabin.
student name : lee dabin. preferred name : dabin. date of birth : 09/06/1999. occupation : full-time student.
enrollment status.
program : b.a. in broadcasting & entertainment. status : sophomore. clubs : whl89.4. sports : swimming. housing : off-campus.
student history.
His mother always said Dabin was destined for greatness, but maybe that was just because that’s what mothers are supposed to say to encourage their kid. Dabin never felt special about himself. He never had that moment where he knew what passion he was going to pursue. The steadiness of his life never bothered him, though, he was always sure that– whatever he was destined to do– it would come to him naturally.
Until it was time to apply for college.
“Have you thought about what you want to major in yet?”
Dabin didn’t know how to answer this. He was sure his friend wouldn’t judge him for being indecisive; there were so many majors to choose from, and such little time to figure it all out.
“Film, maybe?” It was just a hobby, but maybe he could turn it into something, right?
“Really? I totally thought you were going to go for theatre.”
Oh.
“Well, I mean– that was more of a one time thing.” He did enjoy being a fork in the Beauty and the Beast after years of stage tech.
Sometimes he wouldn’t feel as bad about being unsure of his life. There were plenty of peers who were choosing to apply to universities as undecided. All he needed to do was get in and worry about his major later.
Then Dabin was hit with a big question.
“Describe a topic, idea, or concept you find so engaging that it makes you lose all track of time. Why does it captivate you? What or who do you turn to when you want to learn more?”
This prompt had Dabin sitting at his desk for days, groups of cups gathered around his Macbook.
A topic that I find engaging is…
Backspace. Backspace. Backspace.
Using PCR to isolate…
Backspace. Backspace. Backspace.
Do you think in 40 years we’ll all live on the moon?
Backspace. Backspace. Backspace.
Capturing a moment…
Backspace. Backspace. Backspace.
Each backspace made Dabin want to bash his head against the wall. He was usually pretty good at essays, but those essays didn’t ask him about himself. Dabin always knew what to say when it came to questions about the world, and yet, now here he was, wishing that the world would end so he didn’t have to answer this question. Usually when he got these blocks, Dabin would just write how he felt. But.
Why do we have to decide what we want to study now? What if I grow up years later and hate the career I’ve chosen? And fuck! Why do I have to grow up? Why do I have to get in a compact car at eight in the morning, drive into a long line of cars, just to wait in a long line for a copy machine? What if I’m not ready to take the jump? What if I never am? What if I spend all my years studying what I love, and I end up spending eternity trying to pay off my debt? Why must I show the world what I have to offer instead of seeing what the world has to offer me?
The next morning Dabin woke up to drool on his desk and an overdue deadline. Maybe college was just not in the books for him after all.
