#just can't decide which level I would say to be fluent

[skiddo-xy]

Note to self: stop obsessing over which level of language learning you have to be at to say you speak it and instead keep working harder until you can get to a point where you can confidently say you speak it .

[kookygobbledygook]

Okay, I am about to piss off both sides of the debate.

I believe Cassandra shouldn't be articulate.

On one hand, yes, Cassandra Cain is infantalised by the fandom and that is in part due to her start in comics with being non-verbal and neuroatypical due to David Cain's training. It is rooted in ablism, racism and misogyny.

HOWEVER, as not only a person who has worked for over a decade in group homes for disabled people, but as a neuroatypical woman who grew up with multiple speech impediment, a stutter, and who had to do so much speech therapy as a kid that it ironed out my Australian accent, I hate that the discourse seems to be divided down the line of non-verbal, illiterate Cass is infantilising and verbal, literate Cass is empowered.

When you work in disability you soon learn there is a wide canyon between having an intellectual disability and being stupid. I have worked with dozens of people with intellectual disabilities over the years. None of them had been stupid. The most significantly disabled person I worked with never learnt to talk, needed help feeding himself, with personal care and almost all aspects of his daily life. He was also stubborn, cheeky, funny, impatient, enthusiastic about life, and had the best bullshit meter on the planet. He knew if you were there to help him or if you weren't worthy of his trust and that trust was hard earned. He was a fully fleshed-out, complete, adult man, with likes and interest and opinions which he couldexpressvery clearly. He passed away a few years ago and I miss him daily.

And he wasn't stupid. You see what I'm getting at?

So to loop back around to Cass, it annoys me that some people seem to think that Cass needs to be as articulate as an average person or write and read at the same level as her peers, to have her character progress. Why can't she improve and these areas still be a struggle for her? Why can't she be a bit underdeveloped in these areas not matter how hard she tries? To me it's like how there are people who learn as second language and are easily fluent, while there are other who will always struggle with articles, or tenses or the order of words or the use of plurals. That's not a sign of intelligence, why should it be that way in Cass' case?

I know people have shown examples of Cass speaking in lengthy sentences in the comics as evidence that Cass is articulate now and... yeah? But I kind of hate it? To me it's like the writers have given up on trying to depict what someone who struggles with language sounds like and have just ignored it, and treated Cass' dialogue like anyone else's. It makes her a flatter character imo.

One of the reasons I was drawn to Cass as a character was because she was so unlike me in many respects but in others so similar. The difficulty in articulating myself was a big one. And I hate that's been slowly wittled away by the writers at DC and now the fandom.

I still have a stutter. It's not a typical st-st-stutter. My brain blocks of the word before I even start to say it. But most people don't notice because on a completely subconscious level I search out synonyms. It's weird because if you got me to read out of a book, I would end up saying different words to what are written down, but they would still mean the same thing. And I don't even notice I'm doing it! Brains are weird. They compensate.

BUT I still have a stutter. Just because I work around it, and just because it's invisible in most situations doesn't mean it's not there.

We rail against other media when they find a magic cure to someone's disability. Hell I remember the outcry when DC decided to get Bab's out of the wheelchair. But because Cass' disability is invisible and more complicated to convey, we seem fine with it being watered down and framing that as character progression.

I want to see a Cass who is disabled and also an adult:

A Cass in speaks as much as she can in short clipped monosyllabic sentences because it's easier for her

A Cass who uses gestures and face expressions more often if she can

A Cass who struggles to find the right term sometimes and comes up with something left-of-field like people who have english as a second language calling a slug a "snail with no home" or calling raisins "elderly grapes"

A Cass who takes photos of crime scenes instead of writing down clues

A Cass who listens to audiobooks because physically reading is so much effort it takes the joy out of the story

A Cass who uses voice-to-text on her phone, but if she does resort to physically texting, she uses emojis

A Cass who struggles to hold down a typical job, and knows she's not built for university despite her intelligence because the type of intelligence she has is not valued or accommodated for

A Cass that leans more into the vigilante side of her life because this is the area that she is undisputedly a genius and where she doesn't feel as vulnerable

A Cass and a Babs who love each other but get into conflict because Babs does value the more typical hallmarks of intelligence as a computer genius librarian

A Cass who struggles with bills and banking and paperwork because it's deliberately set up to be labyrinthine to people who don't struggle with reading and writing. What chance does she have?

A Cass who not only has to deal with ablism but the intersection of ablism and racism as well as ablism and misogyny

A Cass who needs help with this stuff but is too afraid to ask for it because she's worried she'd be judged or looked down on or patronised

A Cass who IS judged or looked down on or patronised - even by people close to her, because even people we love have internalised ablism

A Cass who, in spite of being quiet is not stoic or shy, but acts the way she actually is. Funny, sharp, cheeky, cheerful, feral and kind. It's just her words are carefully selected precision strikes that can take down the other Bats in a single word.

That's the Cassandra Cain I want to see. And unfortunately I don't think I will, even in regular DC comics or in fandom spaces.

Because the idea that someone can struggle with developmental disability and also be smart is too much for people to wrap their heads around

[ibtisttime]

The pretty girl with the pretty handwriting.

I've always envied people with remarkable talents. yes I have no shame in saying it. I wasn't jealous, I did actually envy them. I believe we are allowed to feel however we want as long as we do not let it affect other people badly. I never did something to stop them from being so talented or to discourage them and I think that's what matters most.

I bet all of you remember that one kid in class who could either draw, play an instrument so well or even something so small like having a pretty handrwiting. How the teachers obviously liked them more. made sure we all knew how better they were from us for being so talented.

One memory I remember so vividly, is of french class in primary school. see, I've always been the top of that class back then with no close competitor. I was privileged I guess, I have to admit it, for having two very fluent parents and also multiple older siblings that could speak the language so well. Me being the top of the class however, was expected and not something to be celebrated at home. but at school, it was my moment to shine, because there has always been a kid that draws better, one that sang better, and one that could write better. It was the only class where I could feel how everyone admired me so much and wanted to learn from me. kids would line up at the door of my house to get some help with their homeworks or to have me accept being parts of their projects. French class was definitely my favourite class. That until the pretty girl showed up.

I don't remember how or when she exaclty joined our school. Maybe because all of those past memories are so blurred to me now (yes, one of the reasons I am writing is to try and collect all those pieces to help me find out who I was). I just remember it being 4th grade and her being my same height which makes her tower over all the girls in class with me. I remember her being so pretty, having a very pale skin, smooth dark long hair, beautiful dark eyes that barely showed with her bangs, a very slim figure and a very cute voice. Nothing like me, all quite the opposite actually. She was so charming from a very young age. and I believe she naturally knew how to use those charms from a very young age too.

I can't recall wether we were friends or not but I have memory of talking to her in the school's yard and her bringing up kids songs and shows that were so foreign to me. I remember there being a circle of pople around her when she told us about those songs and sang to us.

What I clearely remember about this girl, is french class. I remember to this day how her voice sounded like when she mispronounced basic words in french. or how she called the teacher in a strained cute tone. I mean, I remember her level being so poor.

But one day the french teacher was examining our writing and he noticed hers. he was so surprised, he lifted her copy book and showed all of us how well pretty her handwriting was. He from then on, made her his favourite, always called her to the board to write stuff and praised her every single day. And of course, made sure to remind us every time how better she was from everyone else. And everyone else (me) faded away.

I remeber hating it so much, ever since I was a kid. Why am I being compared to someone who was obviously blessed? why are they better than me if they didn't even try?? I was the one with the knowledge and the grades, why is he better? I was a child, and I was angry. And of course, as any child would do, I just prayed and prayed to magically wake up with some sort of talent, and that talent never came.

I think I realized at such an early age, how important pretty is. and how pretty with talent is so powerful and would always win over hard work. Maybe not always, but very often.

I also realized at such a young age, how I was lacking in both. I just decided at the age of 9 that I was not pretty. I did not have the looks and I did not have the manners and the attitude of a pretty girl, I just knew I didn't. I also had no significant talent that would make me shine more than others. I was very very mediocre. the only thing I had was grades.

So now I find it funny when people ask me why I do not think I'm pretty. Yes I might be pretty, gorgeous even to some. but in the society I grew up in, I am way less than normal, unpleasing to the eye I would say. I just came to know this through multiple experiences. so before anyone just tells me to be confident in my looks and feel pretty in my own skin. they better first undrstand that it is deeply rooted in me. I was conditioned to think like this.

I will for sure grow out of this, I already healed the biggest part I would say. But not feeling pretty is okay. sometimes it can't be helped and needs years and years of work and self acceptance. so people saying YOU ARE PRETTY YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT are just very fuuny and quite delusional even.

[alex51324]

#okay MAYBE#but if i was told to put a something in the iven and i found the thing i THOUGHT I'd been instructed to cook#but it still had FUR ON#i would MAYBE. REREAD. THE TEXT????#I'm sorry but the the most logical explanation is that 'tina' is fucking deranged and not qualified to help anyone

Oh, yeah, I'm definitely not saying that the aide used good reasoning and decision-making skills throughout the whole situation. I'm just saying there's a way that this is explained by ordinary stupidity.

There are a lot of people who, once they've decided they know what's going on, will cling to that initial assumption no matter how much evidence piles up to the contrary.

Add that to someone who "reads" by looking at the first few letters and guessing--which is very common, whether from haste or less-than-fluent reading ability--and there's a way this could have happened without the aide either being off her rocker or having some secret animus towards the client or disabled people in general.

I certainly don't insist that this was what happened, but I can definitely see it.

(And if it did, the reading-fluency issue is definitely a problem in anyone who works in healthcare, but it's not an uncommon one. In addition to being a librarian, I also teach community college, and we get plenty of people coming in for a CNA--the lowest level of nursing credential--who can't read very well. It's a real & massive safety problem, when people in a healthcare setting can't necessarily understand written instructions, but because these jobs are so poorly paid, and there is so much need for them, people get hired anyway.)

Text recounting of the full events below but oh my god please watch this person explain the wildest thing happening to them

[image text]r/trueoffmychest post by CptnSpaceCase tiktok handle kelseycanstand

Today my aide cooked what should not be cooked

I have to get this out, because today feels like an actual nightmare I keep expecting to wake up from.

I'm disabled, and need help with stuff around the house. Today was the second day with a new agency and new home health aide, "Tina." I set it up so she would come by in the morning while I'm sleeping (insomnia is killer), and I texted her last night what I would need done today.

One of those things was to roast some precut squash I'd gotten so I could have it with my salads and pasta. I was very clear in my instructions: what it looked like, where it was in the fridge, how to use the oven, how to cook it. I also have a roommate who was up and told her she could ask them for help if she couldn't find anything. Or come get me if truly necessary.

Now, I have three pet ball pythons. They eat rats that I thaw from frozen in the fridge in a reusable plastic bag. Yes, that's where I'm going with this.

Tina couldn't find the squash, and so, obviously, that meant she should roast the first other thing she could see that was technically also encased in plastic, in a completely different area of the fridge. The FUCKING RATS. In butter and salt, in my nice baking dish.

And like, that's insane all on its own, but if you're going to cook any animal, you should at least clean and skin it first, right??? Like, do the crazy, disgusting thing properly so I can respect the effort, instead of sticking them in as is. Fur and guts and all.

And the smell. Good God baby Jesus the SMELL. It woke me up and had me gagging the moment I opened my bedroom door. Definitely not squash. Or food-smelling for that matter. At first I thought the squash had spontaneously rotted overnight and she'd tried to cook it anyway. That would have been slightly less insane and much preferable.

I had to pull it out of her what she was cooking instead when she said she couldn't find it (it was in plain sight), had to open the oven and see my snakes' dinners in place of my own and still couldn't process what the fuck was happening, what I was looking at and smelling. I don't like yelling at people and generally avoid it. Today was a day for exceptions. And at the end of my half-crazed, dissociative rant, I told her to get the whole dish and its contents and herself out of the fucking house. And to not come back.

Suffice to say, I've contacted the agency to report it and am requesting a new aide. Now I'm sitting at a cafe trying to calm down and eat something despite the scent memory that's taken up permanent residence and turning my stomach. The whole house reeks like musty, sewage-dipped pork that had been left out for a whole day before being cooked in rancid oil, and I'm not sure Febreeze is gonna cut it. I don't want to go home. 🫠😭

[wromwood]

In the continuing dub examination saga, I've decided to watch the newest episode of the Amazing Digital Circus in Japanese!

This one will be different than my viewings of the Spanish and French dubs because I know those two languages far better than I know Japanese. I'm currently taking Japanese on Duolingo, but while I now know many sounds and some vocab words/phrases (and I've picked up some understanding of basic words/phrases from watching subbed anime), I still can't hear/read it anywhere near my Spanish or French skill levels.

Thus, I will only note things that either A) I am intentionally looking for or B) managed to stand out to my not-that-informed ear. I will be double-checking what characters say with Google Translate, so if anybody fluent in Japanese wants to correct or add on to what I discover, please feel free to leave a comment!

Japanese

Anyone who has read my posts about the Spanish and French dubs will know that I'm very curious about what Gangle says in regards to having been a shift manager in the past. Surprisingly, according to Google Translate, she doesn't say she was a shift manager at all.

According to the subtitles, Gangle says, "私なら彼女を働かせられるかもしれない... シフトマネージヤーが今の私の仕事だもの"

According to Google Translate, this means, "Maybe I could get her to work... Shift management is my job now." (NOTE: I am directly quoting Google Translate here and am not intentionally misgendering Zooble)

This lends some evidence to my theory that Gangle didn't necessarily mean that she used to work in fast food in English, and that this line was instead subject to the understanding/whims of the translators.

*

Oh my god, Orbsman speaks in the Japanese dub! The unintelligible noises are still there, but now there's a low-pitched human male voice speaking underneath them. According to the subtitles, here's what he says:

"おはよう注文をお願い"

Google Translate: "Good morning, please order."

"そのとおり僕はオーブスマンだ"

Google Translate (plus added confirmation from sister): "That's right, I'm Orbsman."

"クラシック57番のバリユーセツトをお願い"

Google Translate: "I would like a Classic 57 value set."

*

In my ongoing journey to learn how Gummigoo's "Hello, shiela!" is translated, I can now share that in Japanese, he says, "よう 姉ちゃん", which more literally means, "Hey, sis!" but is apparently closer to meaning "Hey, miss!" in this context.

As for his order, Google Translate interprets it as, "Give me a full set of sausages and bacon," which means there's likely no clever pun like in French.

*

Hey! Finally, I've found a dub where the Gloink Queen's children (Blumby, Skethers, and Leotthew) have (roughly) the same names that they do in English.

*

Since I mentioned how this was different in the other dubs, I want to share that in Japanese, Ragatha calls the stupid sauce "horseradish sauce" just like in English.

Also, I am... done drawing all these characters into Google Translate and copy-pasting, so take my word for this from now on.

Apparently, Ragatha's horse lore is missing in Japanese. She does not say she misses her horses.

*

And those are all my notes. I won't be doing individual dub notes from now on, but I may do deep dives across the dubs to examine individual moments, mainly:

What Gangle says about being a shift manager.

What the Gloink Queen's children are named.

If the Raggedy Ann and Andy reference is directly translated.

[specialagentartemis]

Ella Cara Deloria / Aŋpétu Wašté Wiŋ (Beautiful Day Woman)

Yankton Indian Reservation, South Dakota

1889-1971

Part of my Aro Week series on Romantic De-prioritization in History.

When I was noodling about this Aro Week series I wanted to do, a friend told me about Ella Deloria, just a few weeks ago.  When I read up on her, I was shocked I had never heard of her before.  A pioneering anthropologist and linguist in the early-mid 20th century, she worked with such luminaries as Franz Boas, Margaret Mead, and Ruth Benedict.  In my Introduction to Anthropology Theory class, of course we read Boas and Mead and Benedict. They were foundational; you can't learn the history of anthropology without them.  In several other classes, I read work by her nephew, the acerbic and brilliant Vine Deloria Jr.  He's foundational, too; you can't learn Indigenous philosophy without him.  But we never learned about Ella Cara Deloria.  And I feel cheated.

Ella Cara Deloria was born on the Yankton Sioux Reservation to parents of mixed Yankton-European descent.  Her father was an ordained Episcopal priest, and her family was very religiously Christian. She was educated at her father's mission school, and later got a teaching degree from Columbia Teachers' College.  She was never graduate-level trained in anthropology, but at college she met Franz Boas, and did pioneering anthropological research for the rest of her life.  She was an anthropologist, linguist, teacher, writer, and translator; she spoke Dakota and Lakota fluently because her family spoke those at home, and also was fluent in English and Latin.  She did pioneering anthropological work documenting Dakota and Lakota traditional religion and language.  She apparently even challenged a white anthropologist when he couldn't tell the difference between traditional Lakota lore and creative fiction.  Though she was a Christian from a Christian family, she published descriptions of Lakota traditional religion to try to make it sympathetic and understandable to mainstream white America.  She was critical in gathering ethnographic data for Boas as well as publishing her own work.  She worked with the Lumbee Tribe of North Carolina to support their bid for recognition, a critical piece of which was documenting their language and traditional plant knowledge; she was working on a comprehensive dictionary of the Lakota language when she died.

She was really cool and interesting, is what I'm saying, and did a lot of both interesting and crucial work.  My Anthro Theory professor made a point to try to incorporate women and scholars of color into the syllabus so it wasn't all Old Dead Ethnocentric White Men; so where was her work with Lakota religion and language?  Franz Boas and so many of his students were highlighted because they truly made American anthropology what it is; where was Deloria?

And of course, what makes her part of this series is that Deloria never married; she divided her time between caring for her elderly parents, living with her sister, and travelling the country doing anthropological research.  Her family and L/Dakota community were really important to her.  So was understanding the social dimension of Being L/Dakota and making that information known and accessible to white America, in an effort to present Native people as, well, people, with complex, interesting, and relatable religions, stories, and society.

So far, I've only read about her on the internet; I would absolutely love to learn more about her.

But this is the note I've decided to end Aro Week on; the re-affirmation that there are always more people out there to learn about, even where you least expect them; that every individual who has aromantic resonances to me certainly had their own priorities, values, and feelings regarding attraction, relationships, and romance.  I can't necessarily know them all specifically—but that diversity in the human experience is there. It's beautiful.  And it's affirming, to think that by living my life I can add to it.

[mellie1409]

Practice day

Knock knock knock

'Y/N, it's time to wake up you hear Jin say.

As usually, he leaves the door open on a crack, through which the early morning sun rays sneak in paired with the sound of people talking in raspy morning voices.

It had been a month already since you moved in with BTS and you still didn't get used to wake up in a foreign house full with silly and loving laughters 24/7.

As you stood up to open the curtains, you stretched your back, sore from what had been weeks full of intensive dance training, to try and lift your dance level up to the rest of the group's.

You opened the window and took a deep breath in of fresh air. 'Another day, another practice and a day less to debut! '  you told yourself. Then headed to the bathroom to put on your lenses and get dressed for practice.

As the boys knew you weren't a morning person and, on the same way some people didn't liked being talked to before their morning coffee, you said you didn't like being talked to before having your contacts on as you "couldn't hear if you couldn't see".

Today, you decided to wear comfy clothes as it would be a busy day and you quickly put your hair up in a messy bun before going out of the bathroom.

You walked trough the corridor heading to the living room, but before getting there you stopped by Yoongi's room. The door was open and you saw he had been working on his music equipment on a new song. He had been working on new music whole nights since August D-2 came out.

You saw he had fallen back at sleep after Jin had woken everyone up, so you walked up to him and shook his shoulder. 'Yoongi, we need to leave in 10 minutes, Sejin is already here' you say softly.

Yoongi opens one eye to look up at you before closing it again. 'That means I still have 5 minutes of sleep, please Y/Nssi, don't tell Jin I'm still sleeping. ' he answered in a soft murmur.

Of course you wouldn't say anything after he so sweetly had asked, so when you walked in the living room ready to pack your breakfast and Jin asked you where Yoongi was, you simply answered: 'he is still saving some files from last's night work'.

Jin decided to believe you as he finished packing the 4 maknaes breakfasts with Jimin's help. On the meanwhile J-Hope approached you with a very sleepy look but fully clothed and ready to leave. He handed you a banana milk as you shook your head.

'Thanks Hobi but I have singing lessons this morning and I want my voice to be clear and fresh. ' you try to argue.

He simply looks at you and say: 'Y/Nssi, we all know you get nauseous in the car when you don't eat anything and the last thing you want is to miss a practice day right before debut right? Plus, it came right from the fridge, so I'm sure your throat will feel refreshed ' he says while putting a silly face on.

You let out a dramatic sigh but quickly take the banana milk and drinking it all at once as you were truly thirsty. J-Hope just looked at you and shook his head while laughing.

At that moment Namjoon runs into the room, with a concerned face. 'Guys, Sejin is waiting for us, but I can't find my left shoe... ' And that was the queue for the whole group to start a search expedition for Namjoon's shoe.

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In the car the ride is silent, everyone still too tired from waking up early to talk. But this silence is interrupted by Jin.

'Sugassi, did you get to save the files on time before leaving?' He asks with a funny voice.

Of course, Suga didn't know that was the excuse you had given Jin for his lateness. So his answer was just: 'Huh? Which files?'

And like that everyone started laughing and the silence was broken and interrupted with all class of chattering while the manager, Sejin, drove around Seoul, with a smile on his face.

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First thing you had to do today was a singing lesson with you vocal teacher. You went to the studio to find Ms. Kim Sungeun already there. As you were a foreigner, she allowed you to call her by her name, but, in front of other people, you had to keep the formalities.

'Sungeun, good morning!' you chirp happily.

'My my, you are so happy today! I see you haven't forgotten about what day it is today' she says smiling.

Of course you hadn't, tonight you would be recording you favorite song of the playlist: louder than bombs. You had been waiting so long, and today finally was the day.

With the excitement that kept you jumping up and down you started practicing.

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You were about 1'5 hours in and you had gotten to the adlibs part of the song. These were improvisations you had to make around the main vocals to make the song have more melodies. Because you were knew to the world of singing, Sungeun had prepared some adlibs for you to try out.

You were shy at first, but Sungeun kept encouraging you to sing louder and louder until your inner voice came out. You continued like that for 5 more minutes.

Right as you were on one of the highs the door opened at once, a surprised face appearing in the opening. You look startled at Jungkook as Sungeun turns off the music.

'Are you the one signing Y/N?' he asks. You nod shyly as his face lits up. 'WOW I didn't know you could do that!!! I mean I knew you are and exceptional singer, but this is more than that Y/N, this is inborn talent!!!! '

You let out a shy but happy 'thank you' as you start to blush. At that moment, Jungkook steps in and closes the door.

'Let's try to harmonise to this song' he says while getting a enthusiastic nod from Sungeun.

And like that, the most fun vocal lesson of your life continued. Harmonizing with Jungkook to the rythm of Louder than bombs.

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After that you have Korean lesson with a different teacher, as you were fluent, but still missed some nuances of the Korean language.

When you finished the lesson you walked to the end of the corridor. There was a small kitchen and dining room where the groups had to cook in if they didn't want to go to the cantine in the first floor.

You sat on the only round table in the left corner of the room and took out your Korean books. Your teacher had given you a lot of homework and you knew you would be staying up until late already today, so you didn't want to add up homework to the mix. So you chose to study instead of eating.

Ironic isn't it? You thought to youself. 'I thought I had gotten out of studying when I chose for the idol life and yet here we are. Studying my ass off to be able to achieve my dream. ' You laugh innerly at yourself before starting to make the exercises the teacher had given you.

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3rd person pov

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What Y/N hadn't realized was that making homework in a comfortable sofa after being sleep deprived wasn't the best idea. Before she could even realize it, she had fallen asleep, lying on the sofa, invisible for anyone that came in, except for her feet.

And that's what exactly happened. The TXT members that had just finished their dance practice and had some spare time to eat walked noisily in the room. No one noticed Y/N until Yeonjun stopped at once in his track.

The others members looked at him surprised asking why he had stopped so suddenly. But he shushed them at the same time he pointed at your sleeping figure, or shall we say, shoes? Once they were aware of the situation they lowered their volume as they made their way to the small kitchen to the right.

It took not long until the air of the room was filled with the smell of ramen being cooked and melted cheese on top of it. And this was enough for Y/N to wake up with a rumbling stomach. She looked confused around her and we she realized the TXT members were there, eating while standing so the wouldn't get her books dirty, she quickly stood up and started tidying up the table.

'I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you guys were here and that I had fallen asleep' she said in an apologetic tone.

'Don't worry' Hyuning Kai says happily while sitting down next to you with a  full bowl of instant ramen. 'We understand how hard it so to be about to debut. ' he continues while shrugging.

One by one, the other members start sitting around the table until only Soobin is standing up. Looking around to see why it's taking him so long, a smile suddenly appears on Beomgyu's face.

Soobin has prepared two ramen cups, one for himself and one for Y/N. As he walks up to the table  being careful not to spill the how contents in the paper cups, he says: 'Here you go, Y/N. I thought you would be hungry as you haven't eaten and you need to stay strong before debut. Forget about the diets, no one is going to say anything, right boys? '

They all quickly shake their heads, agreeing with their leader. So you happily enjoy the cup of ramen Soobin had prepared you while having some fun talks with the other TXT members.

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End 3rd person pov

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When you finish eating, you say goodbye to TXT and head off to the dance practice room.

Today you would be practicing the dance to Dyonisus, as you had been doing for the past few days.

When you came in, all the boys were there already. You fastly bowed as an apology for being late, but Jimin quickly sneaked you in before anyone could realize you were late.

'Y/N! I hadn't realized you were here! ' Taehyung says while looking at you together with Namjoon.

'She's pretty quiet today, right Y/Nssi?' Jimin lies.

You get to choose the warm up song as always. And as always you choose the same song you had been obsessed with since the first dance practice you had had together: Daddy from PSY.

Of course the first time the boys saw you doing the dance, they were quite surprised as you had always been pretty shy while dancing and the song's dance was quite explicit. But it took Taehyung no time in joining you. And this time it was no different, everyone becoming hiped up. Flying pulls and jumpers announcing that you were all well warmed up.

The practice started and it was going very good. To the happiness of a strict J-Hope and Sungdeuk, no one messed up and you got to rehearsing the end of the song quicker than any other day.

But then, it happened. You were all supposed to step on top of a table for the ending. Right as you were about to do it for the 12th time, you legs gave up and you fell on your butt. Collective laughter filled the room as you, more embarrassed than hurt, accepted J-Hope's help to get up.

It was quickly decided that it had been enough practice for the day as well as that the table would be lower to accommodate your shorter stature.

As you were cooling off, you couldn't help but blush at the recent memory of you falling of the table. Taehyung saw you and came to give you a comforting hug telling you it had also happened to Jimin a lot, because of his short legs. Of course, the latter heard this and started chasing Taehyung around the room trying to playfully hit him and scold him. You laughed and completely forgot about the incident as you got your things and watched the Tom and Jerry game they were playing.

.

.

.

.

.

Last thing of the day before heading off was recording your part of the song of Louder than bombs. As you enter Namjoon's studio, you start to get nervous. This is your first full vocal song and the first time you will be doing adlibs. Namjoon notices and gives you a reassuring smile while setting everything up.

You go into the room that is connected to the studio by a glass door and stand in front of the microphone.

In the beginning, you feel anxious and your voice isn't full. But as Namjoon's patience never ends you start to grow confident and your inner voice starts to come out.

You sing the song with your full heart and it isn't until Namjoon has come into the recording room and is hugging you, that you realize you had been crying. This is a very special song to you, the mening being it always hit your sensible spot, so it wasn't strange that singing it triggered such a reaction in you.

As you sobbed uncontrollably into Namjoon's chest, the tiredness and hunger of the day getting to you, Namjoon spoke softly: 'It's okay, it has also happened to the best of us. No need to worry. You are just tired probably and this is quite an emotional song. Why don't we stop for today? Hmm? '

'But the adlibs... ' you say while sniffing.

'Don't worry about them, we can record them tomorrow. Why don't we order some take out and eat it here only the two of us? ' he says cheerly.

You of course don't mind being with the other members, but sometimes it got tiring having to show that you were good, that you were the best and that's why you had been chosen to debut with the biggest boyband of the world. Being able to show your vulnerable side to Namjoon felt good, and you didn't mind being able to do so some more time.

'That sounds like a great idea' you answer with a soft smile  having fully stopped crying by now, the thought of food helping to your emotional state.

After having ordered some fried chicken (that will totally skip the diet you you were supposed to follow, but never did as you were a rebel), you sat down on Namjoon's studio's sofa, waiting for the delivery to come.

Namjoon looked at you and spoke up: 'Y/N, I know you are under a lot of pressure joining us into this crazy journey. But please, let us take care of you. You are after all the maknae and our little sister. So don't worry about trying to show us you are worth it, just do your best for yourself. '

This took away all your worries of the past few weeks that hadn't let you sleep well, worried about you daily performance in front of them, the mask you had set up to always show your happy side and never you worries. And as you ate the chicken that had finally arrived, you told Namjoon about all your worries and problems.

[starlit-serenade]

Along the Red Thread | Chapter 1

🧣 Summary: It is said that a red thread connects people who are soulmates and destined to be lovers, regardless of place and circumstances. What makes this difficult is that you stopped believing in love a long time ago. OR. You go to Korea to visit your father after several years. There, a mysterious red thread that seemingly only you can see shows up when you least expect it, and you meet a childhood friend you’d never thought you would see again.

🧣 Chapter 1: 1,991 words

🧣 Pairing: Reader x Kim Geonhak (Leedo) / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Kim Geonhak (Leedo); Kim Youngjo (Ravn); Lee Seoho (Seoho); Lee Keonhee (Keonhee); Yeo Hwanwoong (Hwanwoong); Son Dongju/Xion; a couple of OCs;

🧣 Rated: T / Warnings: Mentions of divorce (Y/N’s parents); Mentions of abuse (physical); Instances of abuse (non-physical); Mentions of child abuse; Swearing / Genre: Angst; Fluff; Soulmate!AU (Red Thread of Fate); ChildhoodBestFriends!AU; Happy Ending;

《 Boy Group Masterlist // ONEUS Masterlist // Series Masterlist 》

You see your father waiting at the entrance of the airport as you exit baggage claim. You haven't seen him in a long time, especially not alone, but he looks almost the same as he did when he moved here to Korea with his wife, who now stands beside him, waiting for you. She looks to be almost half your father's age, but you don't say anything. 

Several years ago, two years before you entered high school, your parents divorced, and later your dad moved to South Korea with his Korean wife. Since then, he would visit your home once a year, for a week at a time on your birthday. But you've never been to Korea before now.

You had a friend when you were younger who was from Korea. But a year after your parents split, he moved back home to Korea. You fell out of contact soon after, but you often wonder how he's doing.

You approach your father. Your height difference has changed significantly since you last saw him. You're now much closer to his height than you were before. His wife, a Korean woman you met once when he introduced you so many years ago, before he moved to Korea. You don't remember her name very clearly. It started with an S, maybe? Or a J? Something like that. Her black hair is cut in a short bob, and her smile is soft, almost insincere. A little boy you didn't notice stands beside her, looking up at you curiously.

"Hi, Y/N," your father says, giving you a hug. You return it, uncomfortably, and then pull away. You smile in an attempt to placebo yourself into feeling more comfortable, but it doesn't work. "How was your flight?" 

"Fine," you say. "A bit bumpy, but not too bad.

"Have you met my wife?" he asks, placing his hand on his wife's back. You shake your head.

"Hello, I'm Sooyeon," your step-mother says. She shakes your hand, then directs your attention to the little boy beside her, who is now hiding behind his mother's legs. "And this is Sunho."

You bend down to Sunho's face level, in sort of an uncomfortable squat. "Hello," you say, your voice softer. He waves with his tiny hand.

"How old are you?" you ask. His mother, Sooyeon, translates to him. He must not speak English. Or maybe he just isn't fluent. Sunho  raises his hands up to you, showing five fingers on one hand and his thumb on the other.

"Oh, six?"

"Yes, he's six years old."

You nod. Sunho smiles at you proudly, and he smiles back, still hiding behind the cloth of his mom's skirt.

"He's shy," Sooyeon explains.

Your father directs you out of the airport to his car. You sit in the back with your half brother, Sunho, while your dad and step-mother sit in the front and passenger seats. The ride to their apartment is quiet except for Sunho, who giggles as you make silly faces at him. At the same time, you watch the buildings zip past.

You haven't seen your father in about a year, but he's barely spoken to you since you've arrived, other than introducing you to his wife. You don't know if you should be surprised.

You reach the apartment, and your father helps bring your stuff inside. He shows you to your room. It's empty, and blinding white, as if they just had it cleaned this morning. You walk over to the bed to stand in the center of the room. It feels so empty and plain and large, compared to your small room at your home.

"Y/Nah," your dad says from the doorway. You turn to him, slightly startled by his voice. You've been here in Korea for a few hours and you still aren't used to his voice yet. "Sooyeon is going to have dinner ready in about half an hour. Does that sound good?"

You nod. "Yes."

"Y/N . . ." You look up at your father questioningly. "I'm happy to see you."

You nod, unsure of whether you feel the same way. There are reasons you live with your mom full time and only see your father once a year.

Your father closes the door as he leaves you alone to take in the room on your own. You set your bag aside and open the closet to find it empty. Since you'll be here for two months, you are expected to use the room as you wish. You don't have enough clothes to fill the closet yet in your suitcase, but you wouldn't be surprised if you collect additional clothes during this trip.

You put away all of your things, hanging up your jacket and putting away your shirts and pants. You stare at the bed. It's so clean that you almost don't want to lie down. But you're tired from the plane ride and the emotional exhaustion of meeting your father for the first time in forever. But also, Sooyeon is making dinner for the four of you, so you can't sleep, because that would both be rude to her and would also mess up your sleep schedule for the next two months.

With somewhere between ten and twenty minutes left before dinner--you haven't been keeping track--you decide to sit down on your bed and scroll through the internet and think.

You think about how you used to come to school and tell your friend, the Korean kid--gosh, you wish you could remember his name, he was so nice, but it was so long ago--about what happened at home the day before. You would tell him about how you couldn't sleep because your parents were screaming at each other again, or you would tell him about how your father hurt you or locked you in the basement as a punishment.

You sigh. Aren't parents supposed to be the adults you look up to? The ones who you learn from? Aren't parents supposed to be an example of a healthy relationship? But instead, all you saw and heard was screaming and violence. You grew up being afraid of your own safety, and wondering if watching your mother being hit or threatened was normal.

You frown. The more of that you saw, the more and more you gave up on the idea of a relationship. It was what love was supposed to be--doors slamming, screaming every night--you didn't want it.

Why did you want to come here and spend two months in Korea with your father again?

Right. You wanted to try to mend your relationship with him. Why? Because he wanted you to. And you knew that, if it didn't end up working out, you are now old enough to get a room at a hotel to stay safe if needed.

You sigh. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Maybe you should go back home and--

"Y/N?"

You look at the door. Sooyeon, your step-mother, has opened the door just enough to poke her head inside the room. You must have been so deep in your thoughts to not hear her open the door.

"Yes?" you say, your voice light as you pretend to be happy and excited to be here and see her.

"Dinner is ready," she says.

"Oh, thank you, Miss Sooyeon. I'll be there in a minute."

"Of course. And please, call me Eomma," she says, smiling widely. You nod, though you aren't very comfortable with calling her the Korean word for mom. You already have a mom who raised you alone for the past six years. Why would you call this woman who you barely know cmom" when you don't see her as that? When you already have a mom that raised you alone? You'd rather call her Miss. Sooyeon.

"Thank you, Eomma," you say anyway. You're afraid that, if your dad finds out you're being disrespectful or disobedient, you'll get in trouble.

She disappears from the doorway, closing the door as she leaves, and you sigh. You're already so emotionally drained by being here, and you still have two months left.

You swing your legs off of the bed and stand up. All you have to do is get through dinner and then you can go to bed and sleep. Maybe in the morning, you'll feel better about being here.

You walk over to the dining room. Your father is sitting at the table, which has been set with table mats, plates and silverware. Sooyeon stands next to him, and Sunho sits across from him. He smiles at the sight of you and points to you. Your father and Sooyeon both look at you at the same time. They both smile widely, but their smiles don't make you feel comfortable. So you just smile at Sunho instead and sit next to your father while Sooyeon sits next to Sunho.

"So Y/N," Sooyeon says, halfway through the meal. "What do you like to do?"

You blink. How do you answer that? You don't know this woman. You don't know if she's genuinely asking because she's genuinely curious, or if she wants information for something, or if she's going to judge you and criticize you, or if--

You shake yourself. These are your trust issues speaking. Maybe you should just answer her like a normal person without trust issues would.

"I listen to music. And I play some video games. I read and draw a lot. I just finished my freshman year of college, so it's difficult to focus on my hobbies as much as usual," you say, sipping from your glass of water.

"Oh? What kind of music do you listen to?"

You squirm in your chair. All of these questions being shot at you are starting to feel like an interrogation, and it makes you feel anxious.

"I, uh, listen to many types of music," you stutter, your voice quiet from the internal stress.

"Y/Nah, don't mumble," your dad scolds loudly from next to you, causing you to jump in your chair. You're still not used to his voice, and him scolding you for the first time in years isn't helping at all.

"Sorry, dad," you mumble, ducking your head. 

"Answer your Eomma's question," your dad says, leaning toward you,  and you wince at him speaking so close to you. His voice is loud, demanding, and booming. The same that you remember, back when he would shut you in the garage or closet when you were twelve.

You take a deep breath.

"I listen to many types of music. Not a specific type, really." You can feel two pairs of eyes on you. Your father and Sooyeon are staring at you, while Sunho just continues eating. "Eomma," you add. Your father leans back in his chair, and you wish you could feel that relaxed.

You had expected that he might have changed in the past seven years. You'd hoped he'd become less violent and scary.

It seems he hasn't.

He's almost the same as you remember.

Loud, angry and intimidating. His presence demeaning power and attention from the rest of the room.

"You're in college, right?" Sooyeon asks.

"Yes," you confirm.. "I just finished my first year."

"And how was your first year of college?" she asks.

"Fine."

She nods, and doesn't ask anymore questions. You wonder if you made it clear enough that this is a topic you aren't interested in talking about with her.

You finish your dinner in silence. Your father allows you to wash your dishes before you head to your room to say goodnight.

You sit on your bed, considering the past few  hours you've spent here in Korea. It's not bad. The city is nice. The bed is comfortable.

But none of that really erases the memories of your parents screaming through the walls, the fear and pain you endured for several years and the loneliness you endured for several more years.

Really, you're not here for fun. You're here to mend a broken relationship that you're not even sure is worth salvaging.