#you experience the things it symbolizes in ur waking life and when u go to sleep u do not rest. u experience it all but so much worse. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tarobytez · 3 years ago

Text

disability in the Six Of Crows Duology; an analysis of Kaz Brekker, Wylan Van Eck, and the fandom’s treatment of them.

****Note: I originally wrote this for a tiktok series, which im still going to do, but i wanted to post here as well bc tumblr is major contributor to what im going to talk about

CW: ableism, filicide, abuse

In the Six of Crows duology, Leigh Bardugo delicately subverts and melds harmful disability tropes into her narrative, unpacking them in a way that I, as a disabled person, found immensely refreshing and…. just brilliant.

But what did you all do with that? Well, you fucked it up. Instead of critically looking at the characters, y’all just chose to be ableist.

For the next few videos paragraphs im going to unpack disability theory (largely the stuff surrounding media, for obvious reasons) and how it relates to Six Of Crows and the characterization of Kaz Brekker and Wylan Van Eck, then how, despite their brilliant writing, y’all completely overlooked the actual text and continuously revert them to ableist cariactures.

Disclaimer: 1. Shocker - i am disabled. I have also extensively researched disability theory and am very active in the disabled community. Basically, I know my shit. 2. im going to be mad in these videos this analysis. Because the way y’all have been acting has been going on for a long ass time and im fuckin sick of it. I don’t give a shit about non-disabled feelings, die mad

Firstly, I’m going to discuss Kaz, his play on the stereotypical “mean cripple” trope and how Bardugo subverts it, his cane, and disabled rage. Then, I am going to discuss Wylan, the “inspiration porn” stereotype, caregivers / parents, and the social model of disability. Finally, I will then explain the problems in the fandom from my perspective as a disabled person, largely when it comes to wylan, bc yall cant leave that boy tf alone.

Kaz Brekker

Think of a character who uses a cane (obviously not Kaz). Now, are they evil, dubiously moral, or just an asshole in general? Because nearly example I can think of is: whether it be Lots’O from Toy Story, Lucius Malfoy, or even Scrooge and Mr.Gold from Once Upon A Time all have canes (the last two even having their canes appear less and less as they become better people)

The mean/evil cripple trope is far more common than you would think. Villains with different bodies are confined to the role of “evil”. To quote TV Tropes, who I think did a brilliant job on explaining it “The first is rooted in eugenics-based ideas linking disability or other physical deformities with a "natural" predisposition towards madness, criminality, vice, etc. The Rule of Symbolism is often at work here, since a "crippled" body can be used to represent a "crippled" soul — and indeed, a disabled villain is usually put in contrast to a morally upright and physically "perfect" hero. Whether consciously on the part of the writer or not, this can reinforce cultural ideas of disability making a person inherently inferior or negative, much in the same way the Sissy Villain or Depraved Homosexual trope associate sexual and gender nonconformity with evil. ”

Our introduction to Kaz affirms this notion of him being bad or morally bankrupt, with “Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason”, etc. This mythologized version of himself, the “bastard of the barrel” actively fed into this misconception. But, as we the audience are privy to his inner thoughts, know that he is just a teenager like every other Crow. He is complex, his disability isn’t this tragic backstory, he just fell off a roof. It’s not his main motivation, nor does he curse revenge for making him a cripple - it is just another part of who he is.

His cane (though the shows version fills me with rage but-) is an extension of Kaz - he fights with it, but it has a purpose. Another common thing in media is for canes to be simply accessories, but while Kaz’ cane is fashionable, it has purpose.

The quote “There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.” is so fucking powerful. Kaz does not want nor need a cure - its said in Crooked Kingdom that his leg could most likely be healed, but he chooses not to. Abled-bodied people tend to dismiss this thought as Kaz being stubborn but it shows a reality of acceptance of his disability that is just, so refreshing.

In chapter 22 of SOC, we see disabled rage done right - when he is called a cripple by the Fjerdan inmate, Kaz is pissed - the important detail being that he is pissed at the Fjerdan, at society for ableism, not blaming it on being disabled or wishing he could be normal. He takes action, dislocating the asshole’s shoulder and proving to him, and to a lesser extent, himself, that he is just as capable as anyone else, not in spite of, but because he is disabled. And that is the point of Kaz, harking back to the line that “there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken”.

I cried on numerous occasions while reading the SOC duology, but the parts I highlighted in this section especially so. I, as many other disabled people do, have had a long and tumultuous relationship with our disability/es, and for many still struggle. But Kaz Brekker gave me an empowered disabled character who accepts themselves, and that means the world to me.

Keeping that in mind, I hope you can understand why it hurts so much to disabled people when you either erase Kaz’s disability (whether through cosplay or fanfiction), or portray him as a “broken boy uwu”, especially implying that he would want a cure. That flies in the face of canon and is inherently fucking ableist. (if u think im mad wait until the next section)

Next, we have Wylan.

Oh fucking boy.

I love Wylan so fucking much, and y’all just do not seem to understand his character? Like at all? Since this is disability-centric, I’m not going to discuss how the intersection of his queerness also contributes to these issues, but trust me when I say it’s a contributing factor to what i'm going to say.

Wylan, motherfucking Van Eck. If you ableist pricks don’t take ur fucking hands off him right now im going to fight you. I see Wylan as a subversion another, and in my opinion more insidious stereotype pf disabled people - inspiration porn.

Cara Liebowitz in a 2015 article on the blog The Body Is Not An Apology explains in greater detail how inspiration porn is impactful in real life, but media is a major contributing factor to this reality. The technical definition is “the portrayal of people with disabilities as inspirational solely or in part on the basis of their disability” - but that does not cover it fully.

Inspiration porn does lasting damage on the disabled community as it implies that disability is a negative that you need to “overcome” or “triumph” instead of something one can feel proud of. It exploits disabled people for the development of non-disabled people, and in media often the white male protagonist. Framing disability as inherently negative perpetuates ideals of eugenics and cures - see Autism $peaks’ “I Am Autism” ad. Inspiration porn is also incredibly patronizing as it implies that we cannot take care of ourselves, or do things like non-disabled people do. Because i stg some of you tend to think that we just sit around all day wishing we weren’t disabled.

Another important theory ideal that is necessary when thinking about Wylan is the experience of feeling like a burden simply for needing help or accommodations. This is especially true when it comes to familial relationships, and internalized ableism.

The rhetoric that Wylan’s father drilled into his head, that he is “defective”, “a mistake”, and “needs to be corrected”, that he (Jan) was “cursed with a moron for a child” is a long held belief that disabled people hear relentlessly. And while many see Van Eck’s attempted murder of Wylan as “preposturous” and overall something that you would never think happens today - filicide (a parent murdering their child) is more common than you would like to believe. Without even mentioning the countless and often unreported deaths of disabled people due to lack of / insufficient / neglectful medical care, in a study on children who died from the result of household abuse, 40 of 42 of them (95%) were diagnosed with disabilities. Van Eck is not some caricature of ableist ideals - he is a real reflection on how many people and family members view disability.

Circling back to how Wylan unpacks the inspiration porn trope - he is 3 dimensional, he is not only used to develop the other characters, he is just *chefs kiss* Leigh, imo, put so much love and care into the creation of Wylan and his story and character growth that is representative of a larger feeling in the disabled community.

That being said, what you non-disabled motherfuckers have done to him.

The “haha Wylan can’t read” jokes aren’t and were not funny. Y’all literally boiled down everything Wylan is to him being dyslexic. And it’s like,,,, the only thing you can say about him. You ignore every other part of him other than his disability, and then mock him for it. There’s so much you can say about Wylan - simping for Jesper, being band kid and playing the fuckin flute, literally anything else. But no, you just chose to mock his disability, excellent fucking job!

Next up on “ableds stfu” - infantilization! y’all are so fucking condescending to Wylan, and treat him like a fucking toddler. And while partly it is due to his sexuality i think a larger portion is him being disabled. Its in the same vein of people who think that Wylan and Jesper are romantically one sided, and that Jesper only kind of liked Wylan, despite the canon evidence of him loving Wylan just as much. You all view him as a “smol bean”, who needs protecting, and care, when Wylan is the opposite of that. He is a fucking demolitions expert who suggested waking up sleeping men to kill them - what about that says “uwu”. You are treating Wylan as a burden to Jesper and the other Crows when he is an immensely valuable, fully autonomous disabled person - you all just view him as damaged.

And before I get a comment saying that “uhhh Wylan isn’t real why do you care” while Wylan may not be real, how you all view him and treat him has real fucking impacts and informs how you treat people like me. If someone called me an “uwu baby boy” they’d get a fist square in the fucking jaw. Fiction informs how we perceive the world and y’all are making it super fucking clear how you see disabled people.

Finally, I wanted to talk about how the social model of disability is portrayed through Wylan. For those who are unaware, the social model of disability contrasts the medical model, that views the disability itself as the problem, that needs to be cured, whereas the social model essentially boils down to creating an accommodating society, where disability acceptance and pride is the goal. And we see this with Wylan - he is able to manage his father’s estate, with Jesper’s assistance to help him read documents. And this is not out of pity or charity, but an act of love. It is not portrayed as this almighty act for Jesper to play saviour, just a given, which is incredibly important to show, especially for someone who has been abused by family for his disability like Wylan, that he is accepted.

Yet, I still see people hold up Jesper on a pedestal for “putting up with” Wylan, as if loving a disabled person deserves a fucking pat on the back. It’s genuinely exhausting trying to engage with a work I love so much with a fandom that thinks so little of me and my community. It fucking shows.

Overall, Leigh Bardugo as a disabled person wrote two incredibly meticulous and empowered disabled characters, and due to either lack of reading comprehension, ableism, or a quirky mix of both, the fandom has ignored canon and the experiences of disabled people for…. shits and giggles i guess. And yes, there are issues with the Grishaverse and disability representation - while I haven’t finished them yet so I do not have an opinion on it, people have been discussing issues in the KOS duology with ableist ideals. This mini series was no way indicative of the entire disabled experience, nor does it represent my entire view on the representation as a whole. These things need to be met critically in our community, and talked about with disabled voices at the forefront. For example, the limited perspective we get of Wylan and Kaz being both white men, does not account for a large portion of the disabled community and the intersection of multiple identities.

All-in-all, Critique media, but do not forget to also critique fandom spaces. Alternatively, just shut the fuck up :)

happy fucking disability pride month, ig

2K notes · View notes

papers4me · 3 years ago

Text

Fruits Basket,Se03, Ep 9 (part 1)

“ppl & feelings can’t be bound down”~

What an ep for my girl tohru! She completed her growth thanks to kyo’s rejection. really, It was so hard, cruel, understandable but above all so necessary for her to reach a logical realistic conclusion that “I can love/want things from the bottom of my heart, but at the end I can’t force or bound them to me, I won’t regret loving/wanting them, but I’ll move forward regardless, no more standing still”.

-The fear of being alone:

Aren’t we all? We’re scared to face the word after breaking bonds, changing, not getting what we want, having to start over. Such feelings run deeper into us all. Both tohru & akito were scared to face the word without the old comfortable bond that they got used to:

Tohru realized today, that she cant keep talking to a cold photo, can’t live according to her mom’s expectations, to fulfill her mom’s wishes, can’t narrate her daily life to her mom & fill her life with other ppl’s own issues to distract her self from facing her own loneliness & from looking deeper into what should she do with her life. As she fell in love with kyo, tohru started talking to him! forgetting to inform her mom abt her life’s details, thinking abt what will she do “after graduation?”. As kyo asked in se02, ep2. Graduating highschool is ur mom’s wish, What would u wanna do after?” Tohru didnt have a response of “an after”cuz her mom wasnt there to tell her! Tohru has to choose “the after” herself!!!! “The after” was being with kyo & starting life together! figuring what to do next together! She no longer alone! she found her most precious person!

Except: he cant be with her. Again tohru is scared. What to do now! she wanted a bond but is forced to leave it. Loving kyo was stage 1 to be free from her grief. Moving forward without kyo is stage 2 to learn not to repeat the painful journey again! She didnt let go of her mom & kyo easily. It was hard, scary but she must do it. You must respect their wishes & move on. As scared as she is, there will be sadness & happiness ahead.

Akito realized she cant keep an empty box, cant keep fulfilling her dad’s wishes to “be loved & special” cant bound the zodiacs to her for good. They may love her or not, it doesn't matter, if they wish to leave for whatever reason, she cant force them to stay.

Except now that the zodiacs are leaving, what does she have to live for? who will be with her? she isnt good with strangers? she never met anyone who wasnt forced to obey her & be grateful for her. Strangers cant be forced to love her! what will she do now? stretch you hand for a greeting. Tohru told her, make a friend, they might refuse you, but hey might accept u too, I’ll make it easy, Hi, I;m tohru, whats ur name?

The power of true love: ( reality vs fiction)

In fairy tales, the princess fix the prince. the prince save the princess. The prince kiss the princess, she wakes up & they be happy ever after. Except real life has no prince & princess, You cant always be saved, you cant always save others, pure intense true love cant always be the answer!

Yuki was first when tohru needed physical saving. he saved her twice! Yuki’s nickname in school ”the prince”. Yuki is always cool, thoughtful & kind. Yuki always knew what to say & do! he deserves tohru’s romantic love more than kyo, right? But “ppl & feelings can’t be bound down”~ . Yuki didn't feel this way towards tohru, granted no one (excepts kakeru) knows the reason why he loves her fondly (she’s his mom figure). The official” prince isnt the one for her. Real life isn’t a fairy tale. Yuki has someone who sees he isn’t cool, perfect or a prince “ granted no one knows abt machi, yet! ) XD

In tohru monologue: she didnt think abt saving, that's not why she loves kyo. She stated normal, silly, mundane things! a shy smile, awkward kindness & the likes. Stuff ppl love abt each other in real life. You dont say, I love my husband cuz he saved me from a burning building in the 7th floor! lol. But fiction is so full of this. Princes saving princesses.

Tohru didnt fix kyo, too! as much as her love helped him greatly to find hope, the best writing choice is that tohru’s love also brought despair to kyo! To him, she’s the symbol of hope, peace & comfort! she’s also, the symbol of despair, torment & unease! EPIC! The kyo who’s stuck in the past cant be with her, the kyo who will move beyond trauma, abuse & broken soul will be with her. The duality is all on kyo’s shoulder: what will he choose? Can he choose in his state now?

In fairy tales the princess wakes up after the kiss. In real life, we don't. Tohru didn’t. Regardless if she fainted during or after the kiss. The kiss fixed nothing. Kyo’s despair in seeing near-dead tohru in a not-so-subtle mimic to his nightmare, has manifested itself into the sweetest kiss upon seeing her conscious & talking. Kyo isnt good with words, his actions are his words. When he’s scared, sad, in trauma: running away. when he’s fond of her, grateful for her existence: head knock, head pats, hand holding & a kiss. Still the kiss fixed nothing. Kyo is still traumatized more than ever now. Tohru still feels rejected “even if I’m not with you, plz live”.

Talking fixes everything. It didn’t here, kyo & tohru talked & showed their most vulnerable side to the other, but still didn’t meet half ways, regardless of all the love. That’s cuz they keep missing each other’s best timing. Kyo is stuck in the past while tohru has moved forward. even if in her mind she’s the one who stood & he moved. this shows they aren’t on the same wave yet. Before meeting each other again, kyo must learn from his mistake like tohru did. He must face his ultimate demon: his dad. The one who created the current broken kyo.

Rebelling against parents: ( sign of growth & freedom of choice):

Rebelling against parents is a sign of a desire to choose one’s path, decide one’s own future. Away to express an oppressed desire.

Yuki rebelled against his mom in se02. he told her I’m not going to the college you chose. I’ll chose my path. I’m not staying away from Ayame. My bro is good in my book. I chose who I want to be with. He told her what he needed, turned his back & moved forward.

Tohru rebelled against her mom today. told her I’m not wasting myself doing only what you I think you’ll approve off. You might bot forhet kyo, thats ur choice, But I DO. I love him even if you might not approve of him, Even if he rejected me, my feelings wont change, but I’ll move forward from the grief & pain. mother. She told her what he needed, turned his back & moved forward.

Kyo WILL rebelled against his disgusting dad. He MUST. It is his turn now. He’ll tell him I’m not wasting myself being locked in a cage. I have a future! I’m not a monster. I am LOVED! I might not 100% sure why I’m loved, but the truth cant be hidden. I have ppl who love me! cheer for me! I want to live! enough of death! mom & kyoko died, tohru nearly did, but I’m not gonna die! I’m not killing ME! I’‘ll do what MOM didnt do! I’ll do what YOU couldn't do! I’ll live! He’ll tell him what he needed, turned his back & moved forward. I cant wait! I’m in tears just thinking abt it! Kyo was punished enough! time for happiness!

Side Notes:

While I’m impressed with tohru’s growth, as they did her justice in this ep, this doesn’t erase that the buildup for tohru’s own journey & trauma was mediocre. There is a reason ppl commented ” omg tohru, you can love your mom AND kyo!. ” Grief is illogical, long process & it sucks that we weren’t allowed to experience tohru’s grief & her mom’s role in tohru’s abandonment issues. Huge lost opportunity that a good conclusion ep cant erase! but like tohru, I’m moving on ~

The path of growth for kyo will start by rejecting the demon: his dad. No. other. option. Hold abusers accountable for their crimes. Stop their madness. Tell them off.

We know kyo is baka! that’s his trade mark, the endearing baka! a lot of characters in the show think so! I love it, but I’m craving baka-yuki! XD! really, yuki is cool, level-headed & smart, but let him be baka too! this only shows up in tiny microscopic doses, but they’re my fave doses of yuki! it humanizes the “perfect prince”, the “gifted high status rat”! Thus him not seeing kyo running the other side, is my fave look on him! XD.

I appreciate that kyo & yuki put their differences aside when they’re with tohru. You cant tell yuki is hella pissed off with kyo, but he restrained himself. His gaze while full of anger is also full of sympathy as he heard/saw kyo’s panic upon the thought of loosing tohru. He understand they both only mean the best for each other, but also tried they both keep missing each other & not meeting half way! Also, yuki being the only one in the hospital is realistic & endearing. No need for them all to be there & yuki lives with her & is so close to her.

kyo not being the hospital is fantastic! thank you writer-San! why would kyo go to the hospital after thinking his nightmare came true? kyoko /his mom warned him, you’ll hurt another person.. he did.. he didn't cause her fall... but caused her sadness & hurt.

Momiji’s reprimanding gaze is my fave look on him! Also, the best response to what akito did. Akito isnt used to such judgemental gaze. Kureno grabbed her cheeks, gently told her you shouldn't do that, the old maid told her you are right, Dr. Hatori erased her mistakes from ppl heads & bodies, shigure being either cold or kissing her ass, coxing her to yet torment another zodiac in his grand scheme to break the curse as happened in the beach arc.

You bet hana & arisa will be there next ep! Arisa will meet kureno & akito for sure. To path the way for their romance as seen in the ED.

Shigure’s “remorse” is a whole can of worms. Playing with ppl’s hearts & feelings to gain someone’s affection is no laughing matter. Each time blood is shed, he contributed somehow. he didnt force anyone to hurt the other, but he played with matches & never got hurt.

Shigure must be glad akito stabbed kureno. Not cuz he’s sadistic or bad person. He isn’t, but cuz akito stabbing kureno is akito cutting her bond with him. Go shigure, your girl removed her lover with blood. Kureno is punished for sleeping with ur girl by blood! so, when is ur punishment for sleeping with ur lover’s mom? none? ok.

The animation is good. They didnt villinize akito by drawing extra manic features like se02. Kyo’s broken & tormented face once again epicly drawn. However, akito’s slaps on tohru’s face were comedic, unnecessary & such bad taste! Stop using violence for extra drama, furuba!

Also, tohru, I love you, I understand you are broken but charging at a person, who has a history of violence & physical abuse & holding a knife, is stupid. No other description. I’m glad she didnt accidentally kill you in her initial rage.

Everything akito’s redemption, kureno & shigure are part 2 in my review.

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #sick paper #final season #part 1

54 notes · View notes

baekhvuns · 4 years ago

Note

Hey 🥺 If ur not busy? Can i request a ateez reaction to them asking you to move in with them? But like u feel hesitant because thats a huge step and like damn thats commitment 💀😂 -RRS👅

ateez reactions ; requested (f)

。。。ateez asking you to move in with them ( kind of made me soft, highly recommend listening to euphoria by jk the joonpiter version, skip to 1:20 )

── kim hongjoong :

when hongjoong told you that he would love it if you would want to move in with him, in a new house that the two of you owned and lived in.

you were a bit hesitant, it’s not like you didn’t want to live with him. he is the love of your life and it wouldn’t hurt for you both to live together in a small little house.

but it was a huge commitment, moving in together was kind of . . scary?

“joong, w-what if we can’t pay the rent? what if we run out of grocery and don’t have enough money to get them? wha-“

hongjoong smiled fondly, stepping to place his hands on your shoulders and leaning down to match your level.

“we’ll figure it out together. . . there will be bad days but there will a lot of better days.” he says, you smile. “we’ll be in this together, you got me, i got you.”

your eyes softened at his words, reaching your hands to cup his face. “you got me,” you whispered leaning in to place your lips on his.

“i got you.”

── park seonghwa :

the two of you were standing on the wooden flooring covered with plastic wrapping with paint sprinkled over, your faces looking at the empty apartment waiting for you both to lighten it up with your souls.

“so we really doing this?” you broke the silence, squeezing seonghwa’s hand lightly while looking around the empty house.

seonghwa’s lips tugged up in a soft smile, looking down at your uncertain face. he knew you were hesitant of moving in together because it was a very big commitment, it was scary.

he removed his hand from your hand and moved to stand in front of you, you looked at him with wide eyes, putting your weight on him and leaning on his chest. pressing the side of your face in his chest, his one hand wrapped around you while the other around your head.

“we’ll do it together, i know it’s scary. . . so many what if’s and to do’s and to not.” he says and you pressed your lips in a firm line, nodding.

“what if we can’t handle it?” you asked lowly, making seonghwa chuckle.

“you can fight goons but can’t handle living with me?” he teased, “can’t handle a fine man like me?” you pulled back, eyeing him with disbelief.

“this isn’t funny hwa, this is our future, we’re living together.”

“i know, and we’ll be great at it. trust me.”

── jeong yunho :

you watched your stuff get moved from the living room of your house to the big moving truck by uniformed men.

“ah, yes that should be enough, we’ll see you there.” your boyfriend yunho’s voice could be heard very well from the entrance.

you took a seat on your bubble wrapped couch, hearing it make a crinkly noise. you hid your face with your hands, leaning your elbows on your thighs. a sigh escaped your lips, were you really ready to move in with yunho?

what if the two of you break up for some unexpected reason? the two of you would have to live with each other until one of you move out.

“what’s wrong,” yunho crouched in front of you, taking your hands in his and looking at you with soft eyes and you faced him.

“i’m scared. . yu what if we have a really big fight and we don’t want to live together any more? there’s so many possibilities of us going wrong-“

“nothing will go wrong,” he chuckles, “we’re literally engaged, unless you have someone else that you’re cheating on me with?” he teased and you smacked his shoulder lightly while he laughed.

“mr. jeong, are we taking these too?” you heard one of the truck drivers call out for yunho.

“i’ll be back,” he taps your cheek and leaves for the exit. you sit back on the seat, wondering of all possibilities and over thinking everything, but then you paused.

eyeing the engagement ring on your ring finger, you fiddled with the stone with your fingers. you and yunho were each other’s support, this ring symbolized your bond with him, you were the yin and yang to each other.

“you ready, baby?” you looked up to see yunho leaning on the doorframe, raking a hand through this mint hair.

this was a big step, yes you’ll have difficulties but there would be many great days.

“yeah,” you looked at him with a smile, “let’s do it.”

── kang yeosang :

the two of you were sitting on yeosang’s parents couch in their house, hands intertwined together as the two of you listened to what his parents said.

the two of you had been thinking about moving in together, so seeking his parents advice was something you both wanted to to hear desperately.

“we know it will be hard at first, that’s how yeosang’s mother and i had it.” you smiled listening to his dad. “you’ll have thoughts about leaving, or even feeling overwhelmed. . “ he continued and you squeezed yeosang’s hand slightly.

his dad was describing how you were feeling, how you were thinking and the unexpected possibilities the two of you could have.

“you’ll overcome them together,”

the nerve wracking experience of being independent and living together, something you had never thought that could come to you at any point in your life, thinking you’d be single all your life.

“it will be hard, but the two of you will do it.”

but when yeosang came into your life, your entire life changed. it was as if he was your missing puzzle piece, he completed you.

“so what do you think?”

you looked up at his dad, a firm smile on your lips. “we both are ready, we’ll do it,” you looked at yeosang who mirrors your expression.

and as if he heard what you were about to say, the two of you said it at the same time. “together.”

── choi san :

“i’ll leave you both to look around,” you and san bowed slightly and watched the landlady walk away.

you faced san, an uneasy feeling pooling inyour stomach. the two of you wanted to move in together, the day san asked you, you were kind of terrified.

you kept asking yourself if you were ready for this next step in your life, if the two of you were ready for this.

san even told you that he would fine with whatever your answer would be, he was ecstatic when you said okay. because you felt that you both were ready, it’ll be okay.

but now when you took a step in your maybe future house together, you couldn’t help but feel anxious, feeling unsure of your thoughts and overthinking everything.

“we don’t have to this if you’re not okay with it baby, i know, i understand. but if you do change your answer, or not, remember i’ll be there with you, okay?” you nodded, and san pulled away to go lool around.

leaving you in more doubts, the look on san’s face brought to much happiness to you. when you told him you would love to move in with him, he picked you up in his embrace and twirled your around as you threw your head back laughing.

you didn’t even realize it had been so long that you stood there staring into nothing that the landlady has to shake you out of your trance.

“ma’am, will you be considering to buy this house?” she asked you, gripping on her metal keys in hand.

you swallowed, looking over to see san’s back who explored the house. when you walked in the room after bidding goodbye to the lady, san turned around with his stunning smile.

“did she leave?” you nodded, “then we should go-“ before he completed his sentence, you ran up and hugged him, burying your face in his crook.

“we bought it, i said yes.”

── song mingi :

“let’s move in together,”

you and mingi laid beside each other on his bed, both your breathing’s matching with the others. the chill breeze in his apartment from the cold rain pouring outside.

“what?” you asked, moving a bit to face him, and he shifted in the same position.

“i want to live with you,” he takes your hand in his and you swallowed, “b-but mingi, isn’t this too early? don’t get me wrong-“

“i know it maybe early for you, but for me i’ve been thinking about this for so long. i want to be in the same place as you, wake up to see your beautiful face laying beside me.”

“you see i-“

“smell your scent on my clothes, having your food for dinner every night, have you in my arms every night and wake up in the same position.” he whispered out, your mouth parted and a little gasp flees your lips.

“i want you by my side, everyday.” you felt a tear drop down your cheek, hearing his low voice making your lips quiver as more tears roll down.

immediately wrapping your hands around his neck, you pulled him impossibly closer to you. small sniffles leaving your mouth and you nodded against his neck, “i love you,” you said, his larger hand caressing your back a soft smile on his lips and water brimming on his waterline.

“i would love to move in with you.”

── jung wooyoung :

you gasped when wooyoung suggested to move in together, “you what?”

you watched him take a sip from his orange juice carton, “well. . do you wanna move in with. . me?”

“are you serious?” you asked, and his face morph into panic mode. immediately standing up with his arms in the air as if the police had caught him for doing something bad.

“w-well, i’m not forcing you! please don’t think that, i just wanted you to come live with me-“

“i mean i already kinda do.”

“-because i believe that we’ve being dating for so long now, it’s only right for us to move in together in a small little house.” he continues and you narrow your eyes at him.

“wooyoung, you know living together is a huge step. so many things to do and so much changes around us, a-and what if it doesn’t work out?”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair before sitting down. “you’re right, maybe we shouldn’t.” he says it so lowly that you wanna engulf him in a hug and tell him you would love to move in with him.

“if we do move in together. . “ he looked up, “then you’re throwing the garbage away.”

“d-done.”

“you’ll help me clean the house from time to time.”

“deal.”

“you’ll help me cook,” you tapped your chin, and he nodded frantically.

“then we should be okay to move in together.” you said and wooyoung’s eyes flew wide open. “really?” he screeched and you nodded.

“okay, so preplanning , i ordered a bunch of stuff on. . “

── choi jongho :

you didn’t know if you were more afraid to move in with jongho or was he.

“so, are you sure about this?” you asked, craning your head to the right to look at him. his red locks falling over his forehead and a pout on his lips.

“hm, i thought a lot about it, and i wanted your opinion on it.” he says, and you nodded, taking in his hand and linking fingers with his.

“i think i would like that too,” you replied, and he jumped.

“really?”

“we’re you expecting a different answer?” you scanned his face.

“no no, it’s just that the other hyung’s said that their significant other was kinda shocked, so i thought you would be too,”

“uhuh.”

“and i even made a power point presentation on why we should move together, so that i could show you.” you threw your head back laughing.

“y-you made-e a powerpoint?” you spoke between your laughs, “hey hey, stop laughing!” he pouted and you laughed even more.

when you finally relaxed down, you asked him to show the presentation to you. “a-are you going to change your answer?”

you pretended to think, and jongho looked at you with concern. when you leaned closer to him, he thought he was done for.

“nope.”

#✉️ : ask #r.r.s 👅 anon #ateez #ateez reactions #ateez requests #ateez scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fluff

281 notes · View notes

dewykth · 4 years ago

Text

SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle and @dewykth collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj word count. 7.5k+ warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳 i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter.

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head.

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry.

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel.

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation.

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go? Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

#bangtanhq #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #btsguild #btsgoldnet #cypherwritersnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic

317 notes · View notes

outragedslime · 5 years ago

Note

1, 6, 16, 22, and 26!! For the ask meme

tysm!!! ill put em under a cut so it doesnt take up half the dashboard dgfjkdfgj i write a LOT SORRY GKFLHG

1. if you were to have Hanahaki disease, what flowers would you cough up?

ough… ok i love. flowers. i love all flowers. but my absolute favs are speedwells? and i guess id also cough up flowers for the person im coughing them up For so id throw in some bloodroot and dogwood.. does this disease work if the love Is requited. EITHER WAY GDHKFLH

6. name five iconic quotes that make you feel things.omg ok the whole experience of all of these movies imma list is like. tremendous. these movies (and show) got a great impact that one or two quotes for the life o them cannot cover the scale of emotion it gave me so… just gdfkh the source is more important than any of the actual quotes i write here tbh. theyre amazing they All made me cry.

1. Sing Street - “Look at her. She races home every evening just to catch that last little bit of sun, have a cigarette and read her papers. She’s always talking about going on a holiday to Spain, but he never takes her. That’s all she gets. Then that tall tree blocks it, and she comes in. I often wonder what she’s thinking about.”

2. Garden State - “We may not be as happy as you always dreamed we would be, but, for for the first time let’s just allow ourselves to be whatever it is that we are.”

3. Good Will Hunting - “No. No, no no no. Fuck you, you don’t owe it to yourself man, you owe it to me. Cuz tomorrow I’m gonna wake up and I’ll be 50, and I’ll still be doin’ this shit. And that’s all right. That’s fine. I mean, you’re sittin’ on a winnin’ lottery ticket. And you’re too much of a pussy to cash it in, and that’s bullshit. ‘Cause I’d do fuckin’ anything to have what you got. So would any of these fuckin’ guys. It’d be an insult to us if you’re still here in 20 years. Hangin’ around here is a fuckin’ waste of your time.”

4. The End of the Fucking World - “It’s strange. A lot of the time you don’t register the important moments as they happen. You only see that they were important when you look back.”

5. A Monster Calls - “It’s okay that you’re angry. I’m angry too, and if you need to break things, by god you break them. I wish I had 100 years, 100 years I could give to you.”

ok those are all masterpieces if ur ever stuck on smth to watch i recommend these SDFGHFGJ

16. describe your ideal fantasy outfitaa honESTLY. big chunky ass boots. big chunky ass jacket. big chunky ass bag or belt with weapons and cute little satchels of herbs and whatnot. and a big fuckin floofy dress that is SUPER fancy almost like a wedding dress but it can be like a different colour than plain white. hell yeah !!

22. tell us, in detail, about a curse a witch would put on you.i guess a curse references something i Dont want to happen? bc a lot of the things that ppl might view as curses id actually love (dont mind me im still dying @ that “may your womb be barren” thing). but in terms of smth i dont want i guess an easy one would be that id never experience true content. true satisfaction. true peace.

26. tell us about an experience you’ve had that seemed unreal or supernatural. (doesn’t have to be scary)i didnt have a Lot happen to me? i guess every time i have a recurring dream, or like. dreaming about something and then experiencing it irl? i think i rly believe in dream symbolism idk how it works at All but i rly do think its got like.. some reflection onto your own personal state. the only thing i can think of rn is when once i had a dream that i wasnt myself, and i kept changing parts of myself, like cutting my hair or later turning into some weird mermaid creature (sfhfgj) but like. in that dream there was a lot of children. children in school around me. children on a beach. a baby drowning. a child curled up in a fridge. and these two children, one of whom came up to me with a fuckin Horse of all things and went “do u want penis?” and im like “what” and shes like “my horse :) this is my horse, penis” and im like Odd name but ok and i didnt reply to the kid. anyway that morning i woke up and looked into dream symbolism and children and babies stand for a part of yourself youre neglecting, and horses stand for hm. “ male sexual energy and masculinity”. anyway thats how i found out i was trans GDFHJGH

SORRY FOR WRITING SO MUCH IM RLY EXCITED AND I LOVE TALKING!! THANKS !

#I THINK I WRITE WAY TOO MUCH FOR THESE THIGNS BUT I HAVE FUN SO GDFH #THANK U!!!! <333 #kolo emerges #long post #strawberrydoctor #ask

7 notes · View notes

pastelroses · 7 years ago

Text

Thanks @watduidu ily but I hate u rn

1.Is a kiss considered cheating?

Yeahhh

2.Have you ever faked orgasm?

Nah

3.If you could have one superpower, what would it be?

My gf asked me this and then called my answer (power to manipulate probability) boring and said she’d want a superpower where she would be able to make someone orgasm with her mind so that if she didn’t like someone she could embarrass them publicly

4.Do you think you are going to be rich in 7-8-9 years?

Nah but I’ll be more rich than I am rn

5.Tell us some funny drunk story.

One time four of us danced to high school musical as two of our other friends basically shagged on the floor it was a fun night

6.Why are you no longer together with your ex?

Uh it just wasn’t right for us I guess

7.If you had to choose one way to die, what would it be?

Lauren Jauregui choking me to death

8.What are your current goals?

Get the grades to go to a good uni for psychology and also not to die in London since me and Robyn are going alone

9.Do you like someone?

I like my gf

10.Who was the last person to disappoint you?

Myself

11.Do you like your body? Sometimes and sometimes I hate it

12.Can you keep a diet?

Nope

13.If the whole world listened to you right now, what would you say?

Be nice to people n stop breaking hearts

14.Do you work?

Not ATM

15.If you could choose only one food to eat to the rest of your life, what would it be?

Tofu katsu curry 💯💯 I’m obsessed

16.Would you get a tattoo?

Yeaaaah I want a few

17.Something you don’t mind spending all your money on?

Poetry books

18.Can you drive?

Sorta

19.When was the last time someone told you you were beautiful?

A couple days ago I think

20.What was the last thing you cried for?

I cried last night reading a story about a dog who went to live with a family for the last few weeks of his life and the kids threw him a party

21.Do you keep a journal?

My drawer is filled with themmmm I currently have 3 ongoing ones

22.Is life fun?

This is vague but lmao yea

23.Is farting in front of people irrelevant?

Wtf is this question

24.What’s your dream car?

I don’t really have one??

25.Are grades in school important?

Yeaaah

26.Describe your crush.

She’s beautiful, kind, caring, intelligent, passionate and i love her a lot

27.What was the last book/movie that really impressed you?

The last book was ‘Our Numbered Days’ by Neil Hilborn and the last movie was 'Everything, Everything’ bc my wife is in it (and once the overpowering heterosexual storyline laid back a bit it was actually pretty good)

28.What was your last lie?

I have no idea I don’t remember the last time I lied

29.Dumbest lie you ever told?

Again idk I never really lie

30.Is crying in front of people embarrassing?

Oh god yeah

31.Something you did and you are proud of?

I’m proud of how I managed to get out of the dark place I was in like September/November/December last year

32.What’s your favourite cocktail?

I don’t remember it’s full name but the sunrise one is nice

33.Something you are good at?

Helping ppl

34.Do you like small kids?

Depends how annoying they are

35.How are you feeling right now?

Nervous and excited

36.What would you name your daughter/son?

Honestly I have no idea but I like the name Dylan

37.What do you need to be happy?

My dog

38.Is there some you want to punch in the face right now?

Trump

39.What was the last gift you received?

@ma-ma-chete bought me a cactus mug and a cat purse 💞💞

40.What was the last gift you gave?

I gave my gf a mochi ball lmao

41.What was the last concert you went to?

Not rlly a concert but I saw Neil Hilborn a couple weeks ago

42.Favourite place to shop at?

Idk tbh I like shopping online

43.Who inspires you?

Lauren Jauregui & Sasha Velour

44.How old were you when you first got drunk?

15 I think

45.How old were you when you first got high?

I’ve never been high

46.How old were you when you first had sex?

47.When was your first kiss?

It was last year

48.Something you want to do until the end of this year?

Be happy

49.Is there something in the past you wish you hadn’t done?

There are a lot of things

50.Post a selfie.

I will soon

51.Who are you most comfortable around?

My gf and my best friends

52.Name one thing that terrifies you.

Parasites 🤢🤢

53.What kind of books do you read?

Poetry books

54.What would you tell your 12 year old self?

Ur body isn’t too much of anything it’s totally fine

55.What is your favourite flower?

White Rose

56.Any bad habits you have?

Does laziness count

57.What kind of people are you attracted to?

Passionate, intelligent, artistic people

58.What was the last thing you cried for?

A dog

59.Is there something you don’t eat? Some food that truly disgust you?

I don’t eat meat, & raw fish disgusts me

60.Are you in love?

Yes

61.Something you find romantic?

Really long cute messages out of nowhere, calling just bc they miss your voice, random 'i love you’s’

62.How long was your longest relationship?

It’s been 8 months

63.What are 3 things that irritate you about the same sex?

This is generalised lmao

64.What are 3 things that irritate you about the opposite sex?

65.What are you saving money for?

London

66.How would you describe your bad side?

V anxious and uncontrolled and snappy

67.Are you actually a good person? Why?

I think so? I insist on helping people even when I shouldn’t even talk to them

68.What are you living for?

Life

69.Have you ever done anything illegal?

I drink underage

70.Do you like your body?

Haven’t I answered this??

71.Have you ever made someone feel bad about themselves intentionally?

Nope never

72.Ever sent nudes?

Yea boi

73.Have you ever cheated on someone?

Nope that’s disgusting

74.Favourite candy?

Ooh idk

75.Is there a blog you visit every day, or almost every day? Tag it!

Not really

76.Do you play any computer games? What is your favourite game?

I do! And atm it’s The Last Guardian bc it’s just so aesthetically pleasing and calming

77.Favourite TV series?

The Bold Type, Rupaul’s Drag Race

78.Are you religious? Does God exist?

Nope and who knows

79.What was the last book you read? Did it impress you and why?

The Chaos of Longing and it did because k.y.robinson’s writing is beautiful

80.What do you think about vegetarianism/veganism?

It’s healthier both for our bodies and the world

81.How long have you been on Tumblr?

¾ years??

82.Do you like Chineese food?

Yeaaa

83.McDonalds or Subway?

McDonalds

84.Vodka or whiskey?

Vodka

85.Alcohol or drugs?

Alcohol

86.Ever been out of your province/state/country?

Yesss many times

87.Meaning behind your blog name?

I’m like obsessed with roses and idk I like the symbolism of fire

88.What are you scared of?

P sure I’ve answered this too but I’ll say more things; anything being inside me, the ocean, squids, spiders

89.Last time you were insulted?

I don’t remember

90.Most traumatic experience ?

My parents breaking up n all the arguments n shit

91.Perfect date idea?

Going to an abandoned place tbh like it’s just such a nice place to talk

92.Favourite app on your phone?

Music

93.What colour are the walls in your room?

3 are white and one is grey

94.Do you watch Youtube? Who is your favourite youtuber?

Not often but I used to love Yogscast Hannah

95.Share your favourite quote.

'Sunrise will come. All you have to do is wake up.’

96.What is the meaning of life?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

97.Do you like horror movies?

Not really

98.Have you ever made your mum cry? What happened?

Nope I haven’t

99.Do you feel lucky or special in a way?

Sometimes

100.Can you keep a secret?

Yesssss

@watduidu you have to do all 100 now !!

#about me #tags

3 notes · View notes

somedaypast-thesunset · 6 years ago

Text

im honestly so much better than i thought i was.

like you have no idea whats going on when ur in the war. you dont know who youre shooting at, what the fuck is happening, who you are - you have no idea. and in this war you go through shit that is like unbearable in some ways and you do it and you dont know how and at the end of the day when its all over youre just left with this massive action that formed every thought you now have and you dont know what any of it really meant.

but like i have beat myself up for time for not being super amazing totally together. like i dont have a job. my work experience is small. my depression is heavy, heavy, heavy.

but what i needed to see was someone else who has felt this same loss. i needed a comparison to know that i wasnt as fucked up. even though i lived through all the shit i lived through, even though my mother was dead by the time i was 20, even though my dad died 5 years later - i’ve never been on such levels.

does that mean im heartless? i dont think so. clearly i am very bothered by these deaths and massive losses in my life. its something i think about everyday all day. but i have dealt with serious ptsd for like.. a decade.

and i never cracked.

and then on top of this i continued to take huge abuse after the intial trauma stopped about my trauma. and i never cracked.

no. listen.

i have no idea how i am here today. i have no idea how there is a man downstairs on heroin kicking the walls and thats not me. how is that not me. i have felt such pain. i have felt such sorrow. but never have i been such a person. literally my worst moments the deepest darkest moments last maybe 10 hours. not because im not prone or i dont feel it as strongly. i feel it so strongly. ive felt all the worst feelings. i feel like im 50 years old bro. its not even just like dead ppl. i saw toooooooooooooooooooooooo much. i know tooooooooooooooo much.

what is it inside of me that has kept me from making this worse for myself. I COULDVE HAD A BABY. do you know how easy it is to do THAT. its easier to make a baby than buy drugs, really. i couldve had like.. multiple babies. like i look at people and im like omg that couldve been me. and not even like.. oh im better than them its like omg if it wasnt for this like one fucking difference between me an them, i would be that. i would be them. i would have children and do meth an like ...

how in the helllllllll did i do this? this man within two months of a death is so distraught by his grief he cannot function as human towards other. yall i didnt even get drunk. i didnt have time to get drunk. i had real life responsibilities towards myself and other people. while living with a total piece of shit who put holes in my wall. okay. my father dies and im living alone now with a man who put holes in my fathers walls. i try to break up like a week before and i cant because my dad is still in the hospital and everything is so crazy because like we know this man is dieing.

have you ever watched a man die? have you ever WATCHED a man die? have you ever in your life watched a grown ass man choose to die in human excrement in diapers cant stand cant walk - have you ever in your life watched that?

my ex did. twice. and i had to have that man arrested and to this day i feel guilt about having to do that because he had to experience this trauma as well and he had to handle it however he was going to handle it and he couldnt handle it either.

i imagine its like the same when you watch someone die of cancer in some ways. like not the exact because theres no choice with cancer. but i guess the question why remains. why did cancer have to befall you. why does cancer exist. why does cancer have to kill you.

depression killed both of my parents and both of my parents lived with it for AT LEAST 40 years (my father probably longer).both of my parents chose not to do hard drugs. my dad was a very light alcoholic if you could call him one at all - he drank sincerely recreationally but it became a crutch to deal with everything else.

and i even get having the most important person you knew die. and do you understand that i know this so well that i even understand that right now you think that no one else “gets” how important this person was to you. how mighty an great they were because when a very important and beloved person to you dies there is so little room for the negative even though it can rear its head.

my parents shaped everything i am to this day. they are dead and i absolutely live in the exact EXACt same lifestyle i lived in when they were alive. i changed absolutely nothing about myself in my grief. it has only been literally this year where i have been like okay. its time. and with my mother ... i dint. i i kept a giant GIANT wooden piece of shit box for these people as a symbol of respect when sometimes i really hate them sooo much and i am soooooo angry with them.

sometimes i forget that im about to be 30 because i feel 15. i feel like when i woke up at 15 except now i am living my nightmares. everyday. and i still wake up everyday, i still try and instead of going batshit insane i took the time to truly explore how i felt about these people and the things that happened to me. instead of just crying about it and being sad and oh no hes dead it was like i knew there was a solution. and i think in some ways its true about my inplanted addiction to instant gratification. an i say this because i did it to myself by using the internet and other things (weed) to instantly satisfy boredom and anger an sadness. what i wanted at the time was to instantly solve how i felt. both times. and not like just make it go away but to “overcome” grief. like i would be enlightened by the grief and oh you know - my mother, shes found her peace now. my father, no longer suffering. its all supposed to happen its all alright.

and i guess i also in this moment dont want to lie to myself - at 19 i was really unenlightened. at 19 i think i acted ... u know, im having a moment. and its not lke a deep one but i think for like.. maybe 8 years or so i kind of disregarded my ex’s feelings at the time. everything i felt overshadowed it and i kind of gloss over how i cheated on him but “didnt cheat” because i “broke up with him before i di anything” even though i 100% cheated on him. like i spoke the words of breaking up to him before i physically involved myself but it was like a plan between me and this fucking dude sooooooooo its really low and this is like so much shame in my life. i hold so much shame an regret over my actions that i just quickly tell this part of the story of my ex but its pretty bad. and then questionably bad things happened afterwards due to both of our immaturity and insecurities. my life was fucked before she died but i cannot fully say i never hurt someone. i cant say that. thats such a lie to myself. in my grief i did in fact hurt someone else. i disregarded another person and like its soooooooooooooooo hard for me to give any leverage to my mother. like she never made me feel or do anything fuck her. but my main abuser in life died. a person i saw like.. everyday of my life until i was 16. she was soooo important to everything i am today and to be really fair - i’m probably still fucked up because i absolutely refuse to deal with what she did. like i dont want to relive it any more than i already do even though you have to through it to overcome it.

i smoke weed uner the influence of my father and i think i smoke weed for the same reason he drank - my mother is the reason i smoke weed. for the most part. like im really haunted by my father sometimes but i became so accustomed to this weird life with him that i mostly have like a culture shock where i realize other people didnt do this and then i get over it. sometimes i think about what he looked like when he slept and how it looked like he was dead. sometimes i picture the foot rotting off his body. recently ive pictured the blackheads on his back. they were really bad but not in like im traumatized way - my mother picked at his blackheads and i started doing it an its just a weird gross probably semi normal thing so like even though i have these images sometimes of my fathers illness what i am most haunted by is the words my mother put into my brain. i was brainwashed. i feel brainwashed. and sometimes i repeat scenarios she did. sometimes i do things she did and not like a nostalgic oh i have my mothers traits but like sometimes i lie. sometimes i tell lies. sometimes i have told lies to be able to get someones attention or pity. like not often at all. not even a handful of times in my life have i done this. very spread out. its not common. and its so shameful but i saw my mother do it and she did it pretty well and people would feel sorry for her and give her attention and it wasnt good or deserved in anyway but it worked.

sometimes. sometimes i have exaggerated illnesses. sometimes i have downplayed symptoms i am having. and i do this i think because i was trained to do this. my mother told me i was sick, she told me the symptoms and it was all repeated from there. i have been extremely lucky to have like no major medical issues since i was a child. i have never had to deal with anything happening because im actually pretty physically healthy outside of the toll depression takes on my body. i coud of course quit smoking but i dont have lung issues. i was told i had asthma for 13 years. we had to move. we had to fucking move bro because i had “asthma” and i had to take the inhalers and of course man of course it wasnt ust inhalers it was the fucking plastic tube that somehow made it better you held between the inahler and your mouth.

to bare it all - i dont even know if im allergic to pine. my mother said i was allergic to pine so no more real christmas trees but what if this bitch was doing it to me. ive never had like extensive exposure to these trees since then. who the fuck knows.

why is it - okay. when i go to the hospital they ask me allergies and i repeat verbatim the same thing my mother said to every doctor i ever met, “sulpha, pencillion, amoxicillin and codiene”

tell me why as a child i frequently had penicillin and at no point in my memory was there like some reaction upon taking this. and everyone remembers it. we all know the banana flavoured medience. and i remember taking it so many times an then suddenly i didnt and suddenly it was apart of this list and like maybe i developed an allergy but what if she just decided? how did she find out i was allergic to these other things? i am REPEATING A MANTRA by a woman who nearly killed me using prescription drugs.

i make alot of excuses. im probably lazy more than depressed because if i was sooo scared i could get tested for my allergies and know for myself.

do you know how upsetting my birth certificate was? and it wasnt even my mothers fault, it was more my fathers fault. but all these little dumb things and its not like ths is crazy never heard of its small things that other people experience too but they hold so much weight like can someone tell me why my mother stopped spelling her name right? like shortly after my birth she no longer spelt it theresa and spelled it teresa. and i had such a moment at her funeral when i saw her name spelled right and asked why it was wrong. that she had spelled it without an h. her parents were like .. confused and appalled that i suggested she had done this an like of course her name was with an h. and fair enough guys. you are the people who named her. which means it was in my lifetime that it changed. and on legal documents even though she maintained her first real name (mary) she spelled it teresa. but these old documents and the way my father spelled it was theresa. whats in an H? like maybe im crazy right. maybe im just making a big deal out of something small but usually when something lke this occurs its because ssomeone else made the mistake and usually youre a foreigner. like someone wrote your name on an official document wrong and now thats just it. but this woman .. she went to private school like she had to have had official document before 1990. this woman made a concious choice to drop the H in her name. why? was it a choice? did she just like slip up one time and went with it for 19 years after? like did she fuck it up so majorly in some public way that she had to convince other people this is how she spelled her name.

and like its been a really long time. and i dont have a lot of these documents anymore. to be fair, i have like 7 remaining objects of my mothers. i dont even know if i have documents with her writing outside of a wedding guest book from 1980. so sometimes - sometimes she wins. sometimes i think that maybe im wrong. maybe i just think she stopped doing it but like why would i notice this? why would i think about it so much?

sometimes i try to think really hard about her but i did such a job at blocking her out and smoking away these memories i literally cant remember more than like 10 - 20 memories of her. i spent half of my life with her. closely. and like.. i remember when i was in like grade 3 - 5 because i was walking to a certain school and i remember this is like.. no you know what. i have atleast 5 seperate memories of this and thsi in itself says something - faking sick. i faked sick religiously. and like i knew this bitch would buy it because at this point im a clever angry bitter child with no true subconcious yet. im like i know my mother will buy into sickness - thats who she is- and i wont have to go to school.

so i start the day before at bed. im coughing. im coughing really hard because of my asthma right but im not sick at all im good but im forcing these dog coughs at 2am and she wakes up and its like oh well i guess youre sick and im doing this so often i have a memory of her frustration like she almost almost knew but this was her job and now im playing games. and its like man you trained me to do this but your power was taken and now im using your training against you and all you really wanted was a sick kid. so im giving you all you wanted and none of it is real. and like im aware of this complexity at this point. even really early my father is now pissed at her and they dont trust each other. and theyre fighting about me and shes saying look at this and hes saying this is what you did. this was what my mother did to me. he knew that like i was turning cold because she was cold towards me and he knew it and he was telling her youre doing this to her stop doing this to her and she didnt so it just kept going.

in grade 10 i faked a heart problem. i freely admit this because i feel like its “okay” because it coincides with dropping out of school. but now im desperate. like im so desperate in this depression and my first year was her trying to kill herself and getting kicked out of the house and im like omg i cant do this anymore im not going to school something is going to give even though school is a relief from home, i was starting to have all these expectations at school academically and socially and i couldnt keep up and something had to give and i couldnt get rid of my parents so i was done.

my father wanted me to “get a job” but it was like... you know. someday youre going to have to get a job. and in my own volition, once my mother had left for a year, i got a job. i was semi comfortable. on my first day of this important job my father became gravelly ill and spent like .. a month in the hospital. and im still going to work. im like 17 years old, everything has gone to shit and im still going to work. and im on the bus everyday crying to my friend that its all so fucking awful and i just want to like party and get high.

so i started. and i spent all of my earnings on partying and getting high on mdma and k and weed. in one summer. it was like 3 grand or something which is alot of money for me in any time of my life thus far. thats the only time i ever earned a significant amount of money.

but then i stopped. because within me i knew especially the hard drugs were beginning to do their damage to my body and i was drinking too much and i did carry it on for like a year before my ex put his foot down and i decided i didnt want to be a person in a relationship on drugs like that. we smoked weed and it was fine.

and like on paper seperately - bratty attitude filled choices. i lied and faked an illness to get out of school, partied while my father was ill. and like i knew this. and in my early 20s i frequently reflected on these choices and actively knew i had to choose other things. was it fun? yes. was i with close loving friends? yes. was i safe? yes. was it the right thing to do? no. and i feel like if i dint make that choice back then i couldve set myself on a better path. but i gave up. i gave up and i give in for this moment and i never fully recovered, i just choose to smoke a shit ton of weed instead. i couldve learned real coping skills but i chose not to and now im almost 30 and i suck, utterly suck, at life. but it could be worse and i could be him.

we finally spoke - no he answered the call and spoke whatever he wanted to to me still. that he couldnt deal with this and blah blah but its funny i guess as i told a friend i had said my last word were that i was not going to speak to him again. she said he mustve replied because that usually gets him. and its sad i have to resort to feeling like im not going to speak to him again to get any response. and im not being crazy and needy or whatever like you signed up to take care of someone who has major trauma surrounding this issue and you knew this. like in june im crying about how this was my parents fault. i have a whole process i have to go through over the course of my life because like i cant decide randomly one day to face this fear and anxiety. this type of issue has to come up as it will and it may not be a good time for me or anyone else but i now have to face and overcome this issue that is not just a medical problem but DIRECTLY related to my parents neglect. like every time a doctor asks how this happened how many times why has this happened this way i have to explain just the bare bones of how my parents how TWO GROWN PEOPLE thought this was okay TOGETHER and let it go. leaking blood and pus. this is like ... what this cyst has caused me in emotion and mental damage is sooo much morre than the cyst itself. the cyst is simple. knowing the neglect of it caused it to come to such a point that it has to be surgically deal with is painful. how did they fuck this up for me? and its like i couldnt just get surgery at 18. at 18 i didnt have a flare up. i have to wait for the flare up to deal and im like just dealing with it as it comes you know because its normal and i guess every few years i have to get this thing lanced thas just who i am now? i guess? but could be worse. could be wayyyy worse. like it coul be on my face, first of all. it could be like in my labia and i would have ppl touching my labia and doing things. it cou be on my actual butthole. it could reoccur every week. every month.

eventually i got a few moments to speak a full thought and i told him it was extremely important to me to have someone capable of dealing with the worst of my anxieties and traumas before during and after this incredibly important moment i am about to face and optimistically overcome. i just know i will be very not okay about it. i know this, i did this by myself its not even like im playing it up for others like im by myself in public sobbing soo hard they cannot take proper vitals. thats how much this is for me. i will not have someone be neglectful or judgemental or take away my right to feel the way i have to feel in order to break through this. like im not taking away anything from anyone else, i’m just laying out what is require and if you can do that, then fine, but if you cant then no im not going through with this.

he made a weak argument and i explained that the last time i had to deal with major medical hospital things was my mother. so i am not okay with this and i am freaking out and this instability hes displaying completely on his own makes me question what im doing. and he continued to rattle off these excuses and started into “you want to talk about traumas, what about ...” and i just turned the phone away and waited until he was finished because you cannot tell me that im not allowed to feel any sort of ways about anything or talk about my mental illness or the things ive gone through and immediately launch into your own. there is give and take and youve already taken everything im willing to give now. he says i have to give him a straight answer because he needs stability and to figure out what hes going to do.

.......

to live with this, i have every right to feel depressed and uncomfortable and unhappy.

i need to begin the process of mentally letting him go. i want to feel free to talk to random people and open myself up to random people and experiences and i dont want to even think about anything with him. like honestly, there is no future with him or associated with him. he cant fix some of these things, its not going to happen. and im going to allow him and give him opportunities in the future to still be shitty to me. and future me needs to understand that this is just proof for why i have to let it go.

and like im frustrated - in my perfect world ive abandoned this dream because ive found something better an more fulfilling to me. its so hard to abandon something without anything else. and like i get really aggravated when im in my i dont know what the fuck to do moments. and eventually i find something - anything - and i really try to put myself into it. like that becomes my new job because im trying out all these roles in life and maybe this one leads to something. like i enjoyed jewelry, a lot. but ike i wanted something bigger and grander and to be apart of something and like i guess build on the jewelry. like i went from collecting bones in a forest by myself to showing in an art gallery and going to receptions and making new friends - i like the beginning of my art career story. its glamorous and hopeful.

and then i thought like i could be more than an artist. i could have a gallery or a studio, i could curate shows, do events - i could contribute to the arts and culture in the city and possibly resolve or find resolution for some of these issues. and i learned like.. a lot about art. i basically forced a semester of art history and basic art techniques down my throat and practiced daily. i wanted to feel knowledgable and professional and like prepared to take on the 1%

and i just lost that. like i built that for myself, by the way. thats not off the back of a man or relationship. amongst all my shit, i created a very minor artistic career. and i was / am well respected for my dedication and quality and like ... i really received a lot of praise. i got very little known hatred towards me. my shit was good enough it sort of overtook an ex friends venture an made her jealous. i was the first person in the city hands down to create a website dedicated to arts in the city. like maybe in 10 years there will be 50 more but i was the first. i was the one who knew how to do it. i left just a tiny make with my minor career. that i built. by myself. in the 5 years before and after my dads death.

but its not that like i dont “want” to do that anymore. i think i do? but the city is not about it. the numbers to bring people out are small. the money is non existant. the quality of talent is not great. i think if i had entered a more viable scene i couldve graduated from what i was doing but as it stands its just not going to happen. and making money from art is really hard and no one respects a person who just paints unless theyre like the most amazing artist and i guess really i have nothing i want to say anymore. ive tried to express alot of things through art and things are left unfinished. im just ... not an artist like that.

but im not even like mad at myself for it - 20s are your time to find yourself. im not an artist. and maybe i wont be a wildwoman land developer either. i know that if i could decide on something, if i could find something i actually cared about that i could achieve it. it would literally me be just saying 100% doing this and it being done soon after. no games. no waiting around. if i really wanted it i would invest everything i have into it. i know that.

0 notes

eusebiavanover6-blog · 7 years ago

Text

MEANING IN LIFESTYLE LIFE Related Articles

Considering the present worldwide instances, this seems emergency that everybody understand about the concept from uniformity as a way from accomplishing the Creator. That is actually an evident truth that when our experts slept last night we were not mindful from the episodes in our surroundings and also implies that whenever fatality happens taking at the door, no Jupiter on earth could cease this off performing its own work and also is the reason that we need to all do our greatest to guarantee that we create rather a relevant effect in the lifestyles of whoever comes our method and also, no question, is actually the spirit of individual quiet co-existence.

Clients should impress upon applicants that they expect purposeful change throughout the tax code, and also a 2nd phrase just won't take place without that. This is actually clear off whatever mentioned above, that developing a prosperous organisation has to do with developing significant relationship along with a targeted team from individuals. The HealthVault Meaningful Usage Coverage Sample also demonstrates bypassing the patient ID and occasion day inNET. Intimacy requires susceptability which is actually not easy due to the fact that men which are actually gay usually acquire left open to bad social notifications. The further you are in your religious awakening method, the extra your aspirations will definitely be actually purposeful to you and are going to help assist you. Composing a meaningful eulogy for your brother need to certainly not and carries out certainly not must be a difficult experience, particularly as grieving is actually hard enough. Medicaid EHR Incentive Course- Entitled specialists as well as qualified medical facilities could train if they embrace, administer, upgrade or reveal the purposeful use of professional Electronic Health and wellness Report technology in the very first year from their participation, as well as carry on manifesting this in the adhering to years from involvement as well. X-mas was celebrated through providing presents like cigarette lighters, expensive ash racks, and also cheery containers from one's favored company. Therefore, change, range and also wide array, these are the words that go to the heart of interior plant success. This is actually only certainly not that relevant to make an additional flowerpot from coffee, to clean off yet another dining table, that can help yet another consumer yield an additional product. Yesterday, for example, I carried out not begin this write-up that you know now (contacted Inspirational Life Quotes to Help You Live Your Lifestyle NOW!). This permits an extra running poem and could be used to integrate a soft emotion with its own words. Among the main reasons being that you can easily create or even stamp a personal statement or even keep in mind on such arm bands if you like or your initials, or some other icons (like center or even other various shapes and sizes) or term which could be of value to you. The observing recommendations will absolutely aid you when driving to beginning a significant relationship with a new lady from your aspirations. To puts it simply: they can function as internet or even matrices as well as simply associate distinct aspects; or even they may give an analysis to these frequent associations, they can easily provide them meaningful. Particular areas coming from CCDA files acquired through HealthVault off Meaningful Use-enabled applications are actually made use of for the objective from generating as well as querying HealthVault Meaningful Make use of reports. Think about posting out periodic bodily newsletters, cards or tiny gifts to reveal your respect to your clients and connects with as soon as you have actually started routinely delivering out an e-mail bulletin. A few of the best ladies and males to find for a partnership perform not go to bars - they find people by means of different activities, like food preparation courses or even publication teams or hiking clubs. A number of one of the most lovely Aztec metallic craftsmanship can be viewed to this day such as terrific ear reels or even plugs intended for use with determined ears. As an individual that devoted numerous hrs building a product that virtually no one yearned for prior to beginning my personal consulting company (which, the good news is, is extra successful in comparison to my very first product) as well as introducing an on the web training program business, I have actually become extremely knowledgeable about exactly what really brings in work significant. Kids which mature on ranches possess a head beginning somehow over urban area children, since they usually have meaningful work to accomplish as portion of the household venture coming from a very early grow older. Truly ur post gives sufficient toughness to any person to boost their life i am actually sending out a gorgeous smile to u likewise. So to pick a little one name that is purposeful in a legitimate method, its ideal to hook up the name to one thing the child will certainly involve market value as he or she grows up. That is actually why giving your youngster the title from an adored grandparent or even an individual from family history is really significant. This is essential for gay males to have dedicated opportunity for beneficial partnership yet likewise seek specific enthusiasms. A fourth habit of meaningful relationships is becoming knowledgeable about the examples your good friend takes pleasure in carrying out and also the associations they spend time along with. Performing what you really love, one thing rewarding, something purposeful are actually just the same thing. The HealthVault Meaningful Use Reporting Example likewise demonstrates overriding the individual ID and also event time inNET. Affection requires weakness which is actually hard considering that guys who are gay frequently get subjected to damaging social messages. The more you remain in your metaphysical waking up method, the a lot more your aspirations will certainly be purposeful to you as well as will definitely assist direct you. Writing a purposeful eulogy for your brother need to certainly not as well as performs certainly not have to be actually a taxing experience, specifically as mourning is hard enough. Medicaid EHR Incentive Program- Entitled specialists as well as qualified health centers may train if they embrace, administer, upgrade or even manifest the meaningful use of licensed Electronic Wellness Document technology in the first year of their engagement, and carry on materializing that in the adhering to years from involvement also. X-mas was celebrated by supplying gifts like cigarette lighters, costly ash holders, as well as joyful containers from one's favorite label. The words this writer uses are actually interweaved all together to make effective as well as psychologically asked for tales that test the viewers to definitely think of the world, and promote them to do something about it in positive ways. Your lifestyle is actually no various; the energy you are losing on seeking to develop meaningful relationship along with countless people via your a variety of social networking sites platforms is actually wasted. Some guys might believe ashamed regarding this, however possessing a culinary skill-set is a wonderful conveniences. If you integrate all the elements over in one inspiring banner, you ought to be actually essentially in the environment-friendly to making a meaningful as well as nice style for banner printing. When you loved this information and you would like to receive more info about yellow pages advert 1992 [mouse click the next article] generously visit our own internet site. Every little thing in life entails relationships, whether it is along with your partner, your kids, your work, profession or your health and contentment As your own relationship specialist, you start to understand that the partnership you possess along with your own self is actually important to residing an information and relevant lifestyle. Some nurses view meaningful make use of largely as an association's obligation as well as trouble. Influencer advertising and marketing is actually a platform where significant folks in a certain business are actually used to get to the mass amount of customers in a meaningful method. Some of her popular tattoo designs includes that from an incantation filled in Khmer on the back of her shoulder. The Unicef Present Store has an excellent assortment of wonderful memory cards as well as gifts that gain their work. The exact same factor goes for labels of your kids, special dates, images from your relatived, family pets or perhaps beloveds, tributes to your (deceased) loved ones (their name, image or even a symbolic representation) and more ... Even a nice drawing of your prediction is actually extra purposeful than a random tattoo style. Sara de Dios is actually director, global organisation innovation at Havas Media and also global head from relevant brands, leading the group's effort worldwide.

0 notes