#BUT THE ENGLISH NAMES ARE TOO INGRAINED FOR ME TO START USING THEIR KOREAN NAMES

[ladyelainehilfur]

pov you asked your friends to beta read your webton fanfic but you have to explain that Billy Bob and Smokey Jones are NOT the names you would've given these Korean characters if you had your way 😭

#the embarrassment of Billy Bob (a korean man born and raised in korea) being your blorbo #YES I AM TALKING ABOUT DONALD JIMMY AND COLTON #IT'S SO EMBARRASSING #BUT THE ENGLISH NAMES ARE TOO INGRAINED FOR ME TO START USING THEIR KOREAN NAMES #weak hero #webtoon

[astralsweetness]

I can’t be honest (but neither can you) || Changkyun/Reader (m)

➣ I cannot believe this is my first contribution to Monsta X, this is really how I’m entering the writing side of this fandom OTL Also hello idk how to write short summaries?? I proof-read this at 4:30 AM so please tell me if I missed something lol. Fair warning I switch P.O.V.’s often in this and with absolutely no regard to any writing rules

➣ Changkyun/Reader | Angst[?] with a surprisingly happy ending that I didn’t mean to write | Showcases some bad coping mechanisms from both he and the reader | Mentioned Wonho/Reader, but it’s purely platonic in a sexual way | Smut warnings include: mentions of choking, pegging, fingering, mentions of a ruined sexual scene, sort of self-imposed edging if you squint, hair-pulling, facesitting

➣ It’s been almost a year since he called off the relationship and your name still tastes like a mixture between sugar and ash on his tongue when he says it, your picture is still saved in his camera roll, and he’s taken the plunge these last few months to reach out to you to be friends again. His hyungs tell him it’s a bad idea, and he tells them he knows, because he does, really, he swears he does. It’s just that his heart soars when he gets to talk to you and he can’t remember why he was ever scared of letting you in past that last wall he’d put up, and he’s going to your place and he hates himself because instead of “I love you” he says “please fuck me” and even now he can’t be honest to you about his feelings.

“I want you to fuck me.” He’s standing at your door, speaking in English with that deep voice of his, and you just blink blankly at him - he hadn’t called or texted to say he was coming over, and to be completely honest you hadn’t seen him in over a week. The silence is uncomfortable, but his eyes are intense, and he refuses to shift shyly under your blank stare.

“..well, come in I guess.” You invite him in with raised eyebrows - he goes easily, knowing your apartment like his own home. It’s been almost a year since you two broke up, but he hasn’t forgotten anything. That same stupid plant he hated was still on your table. He had no idea how it was still alive.

“So.. we aren’t together anymore, we haven’t hung out in a while, but you decided I’m the person you want to fuck you. Suddenly.” Your tone of voice conveys your lack of belief - this sort of feels like some very strange joke, but you have no idea who’d ever come up with one like this.

“You fuck Wonho-hyung all the time, and you aren’t dating him, so why can’t you fuck me?” His words are said in a rush, the first sign of nervousness, and you cross your arms and cock a hip. It’s your default power-pose, lets you feel like you’re in control when you have no idea what’s going on.

‘Is that really all it is?’ you want to ask, but you stay silent. He doesn’t seem aware that when you’re with Hoseok it’s more for the other man’s emotional well-being than it was just to get laid. Sometimes people needed to be broken apart and pieced back together lovingly just to feel okay. For Hoseok, you were a friend he trusted enough to let break him and then take care of the pieces that remained shattered on the floor.

“If you tell me why then maybe.”

“I’m not doing shit for a maybe.” He fires back instantly, gaze narrowing. His shoulders have tensed and he’s widened his stance, an unconscious reaction to the way your own body language had changed. Whether he actually felt it or not, at a subconscious level he believed he was being threatened.

You step forward and snag him by the forearm - the fight goes out of him instantly, replaced by pure innocent confusion as you lead him to your bed. He notices dully that you’ve redecorated your bedroom - though it makes sense considering he was the one who had helped you liven it up before.

“Sit - and try to relax. All the muscles in your shoulders are tensing up.” Your words have the opposite affect you wanted them to have - he tenses more, seemingly thrown off by your care, your notice of his minute actions.

You watch the way his gaze drifts over your room – it catches and lingers on a group picture of you and the rest of his group, tucked safely into the frame of your vanity mirror.

It’s a nice picture, though you really don’t remember taking it. You’re fairly certain everyone was drunk though, since you’ve got your arm thrown around Minhyuk’s shoulders in it, pressing your cheek against his.

It’s cute, even if looking at it is bittersweet. You can see the question on his face, the ‘why did you keep this?’.

“It’s not like I stopped being friends with them just because we broke up.” You feel defensive over your choice, face heating – you weren’t even near him in the picture, on completely opposite sides in it. He just murmurs a soft “oh” that sounds dejected, and you desperately don’t want to think about it.

“Anyway –“ You’re desperate to move on at this point, and he seems to feel the same because his attention snaps back to you. “You’re not really in a position here to argue and make demands, but fine -“ It was just sex, right? For you, anyway. “I can’t literally right now, I have a class in 30 minutes, but if you tell me why then we can negotiate.” You feel like some sort of fucking dealer.

He seems vaguely surprised you’ve agreed so easily, but he works his jaw and tries to figure out how to explain his reasoning to you - whatever it may be. You let him think and go in search of your computer bag. Online classes were a pain, especially those that required attendance in the form of a webcam. The bag has been thrown into a corner of your room, and you sigh and bend down to begin your annoying search.

“Well, we’re not together anymore, so..” You crane your neck to look at him, even as you continue to rummage through your backpack for your computer cord. Damn thing was in there somewhere, you knew. “I don’t have to worry about what you think of me anymore?”

He finishes his statement with an accidental upwards inflection that turns it into a question, and your hands pause before you turn back around and continue searching, mulling over your word choice carefully. ‘You never had to worry’ sits on your tongue, something that is desperate to be said, but you swallow it back down. He wouldn’t believe you and it’d cool the current mood.

“I see.” You finally settle on, standing and popping your vertebrae back into place as your prize - the fucking charging cord - dangles from your hands. Your two words could convey many meanings, and you can see from your peripheral that his brow has furrowed. It’s not the answer he was expecting, though you think he probably didn’t know what he’d been expecting in the first place. “Then - what is it you want?”

“For you to fuck me.” He answers again, and then swallows as he notices your blank stare has returned.

“I know that, you said that. I meant what specifically are you looking to get out of this?”

“I want it to hurt.” His words make your breath catch in your throat, emotions swinging between vaguely turned on and worried. Sure, he’d had some masochistic tendencies in bed before, but - “I mean - I don’t – not physically -“ He’s switched to Korean in the wake of your silence, a comfort language, and you wonder if he even realizes he’s done it.

“Okay.” You respond simply in Korean back and he stops his rambling, just blinks at you. You see the tension finally start to drain out of his shoulders and switch back to English purely for your own sake, because it was easier, definitely not because you wanted to be able to hear his voice speaking your native language. “So long as you promise to use safewords, I won’t ask. I’m not your therapist and I’m not -“

“My girlfriend.” He finishes your sentence quietly, back to English as well, and your mouth goes dry.

“And I’m not here to judge you.” You remedy - you weren’t going to mention anything about your past relationship, and he looks away quickly at that realization. “You mentioned Hoseok -“ His hand twitches at his side when you call his hyung by his real name, but you mercifully don’t call him on this. Maybe this was a bad idea, but you’ve gone this long purely on the denial that he regrets breaking up with you, and it’s too late to stop that now. “- so I’m going to treat this situation exactly like that.”

“Okay?” Changkyun has no idea what that means, his fingers curling into your bedspread. You check the time - 20 minutes until class.

“I’m your friend, and I want to help you. This doesn’t change anything between us, this doesn’t add some extra dynamic, some extra layer.” Your voice has gone business mode and he’s stiffened his back at it, an ingrained response from being in the music industry for so long. “I’m not doing this just because I want sex - if you are, that’s fine, but I’m just doing this to help you out. Is that clear?” He nods once, eyes wide. You think he’s cute. You’ve always thought he was cute, and it reminds you of how cute turned into smitten and smitten turned into perfection and perfection turned into love and love - well, he ended love. “Changkyun - do you promise this is just about sex or release of some kind and nothing else?”

Your tone had softened, and he’d been let out of whatever thrall your no-nonsense voice had put him into. The question hangs in the air heavily, dripping of a nectar so sweet it’s sickening.

“Yes. I promise.” His voice is hoarse, cracking and quiet - and you think he’s lying.

But you’ve held on to your denial for so long. He had said before that the spark was just gone - and what were you supposed to say to that? It wasn’t his fault; people fell out of love all the time. You could barely believe he’d ever been interested in you from the beginning and you refused to believe you were worth falling in love with for a second time. The fact that you had managed to remain friends is more than you could have ever hoped for.

“Okay.” You repeat his assurance, more for your own benefit than his. The room is quiet, and thunder rolls in the distance. Fuck - a storm meant spotty WiFi for your class.

You check the time again - 15 minutes.

“We can use the stoplight system -“ His gaze has blanked so you take the time to roughly translate it into Korean, explaining until his brow smooths out, and then you’re back to English. “Aside from that, though, I need to know what you’re interested in, what you want to happen or don’t want to happen. You can hang out here if you want during my class, or leave, I don’t care - but take the time to think over what it is you want in this session.” Your words are too clinical, you know this, but you can’t keep yourself from doing it that way. You know most of the things he’s into and not into, but if you don’t take this route then it all feels too intimate. Besides, he’d always kept a very careful hold of how much control he’d let go around you before, never wanting to slip too far into subspace, always wanting to seem in command, even when subbing for you. You wonder if that’s changed. You certainly don’t remember him ever blatantly asking outright to have something done to him before.

Memories flash across your mind eye, his back covered in your scratch marks, the way he moaned brokenly when you pulled on his hair, the way he came when you pressed your fingers to his throat. But he never asked for any of it - you had to ask if it was okay to do to him, and he always brushed off any of your attempts of aftercare.

You swallow again, feeling vaguely sick. Things had been broken in your relationship long before he called it off, but neither one of you wanted to admit it. Your heart hurts for multiple reasons, but when you glance at him out of the corner of your eye you know the biggest one: ‘I hope I didn’t hurt him by not talking about it’.

But he didn’t talk about it either. Did he care about whether it hurt you?

“Is that okay?” He’s been talking to you, and you startle out of your thoughts - a half-formed little smirk dances at the corners of his lips, one eyebrow quirked in amusement. He knows you well enough to know when you’ve been drifting. “I said, I’ll stay here if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, it’s fine - sorry, was just.. thinking.” It doesn’t really surprise you that he’s decided to stay - he’s confident to a fault, it’s true, but there’s a slash of shyness that strikes through his character, and you know that if he left he might not be able to come back. The thunder rumbles in agreement.

You half-watch him as you set up your computer on the coffee table – he’s looking around your apartment with thinly veiled curiosity, though you don’t really blame him. It didn’t really look anything like when you two had been together, and yet.. you felt it still had his subtle touch all over it. You wondered if he noticed that.

The class is boring, as it usually is – you’re watching the screen but your mind is far away, listening to your admittedly enthusiastic professor talk about the hyoid bone and articulations while your focus is on Changkyun. He lingers around you with a nervous type of energy, clearly not feeling allowed to roam around your apartment (it’d be kind of weird if he had, you admit) but also not feeling comfortable enough to sit on the couch next to you, even if he would have been off camera.

It’s almost like it was before, and you half expect him to sit down next to you anyway and throw his arm around your shoulder, always just off-screen, sitting next to you during your classes while he amused himself with his phone, just so he could be near you.

You’re just about to be able to feel the phantom warmth from the memory of his arm around you before he coughs and you startle, eyes snapping to him – he looks back wide-eyed, not understanding your surprise but murmuring a quiet apology anyway.

God you were so fucked.

.｡..｡.

“So?” The instant your class had ended you’d snapped the computer lid shut – you hadn’t retained a single thing said, what a complete waste. It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d skipped and focused on Changkyun in the end after all. “Did you decide on what you wanted?”

You’re so flippant with your question that he feels like he’s being asked about what it is he wants to eat instead of how he wants to have sex – the entire hour of your class he’d been nervous, and those nerves had by now tightened into a very tight ball at the base of his spine that periodically sent white-hot flames licking along his muscles.

“I –“ His mouth is so fucking dry and he hates how small he suddenly feels – he’d never felt like this around you before, but usually it had always been you asking if you could do something to him, hadn’t it? “I said it earlier. I want you to fuck me.”

He watches your reaction with pin-point precision – the small widening of your eyes, the way your gaze darts to the side like it always did when you were thinking something over – it wasn’t like you hadn’t ever fucked him before, but he’d never asked you to do so, and you clearly hadn’t expected him to come out with something like that so easily.

Why the hell could he say something like that and not something as simple as ‘I love you’, or even ‘I miss you’?

“Okay.” You’ve wrested your thoughts back under control – it wasn’t fair of him to say something like that, looking so utterly and effortlessly attractive. “As long as there’s no kissing I’ll fuck you any way you like, Changkyun.” You were over him and he was over you and this was just sex.

If you said it enough you’d start to believe it, right?

Changkyun just nods at your terms, looking a bit despondent – you can’t help the strong surge within you that says to fix it, fix whatever upset him, but you have a feeling you knew already. He’d always been a bit fixated on kissing you, but you knew if you let him this time then it’d all be over.

“I don’t remember you ever falling this far into the ‘submissive’ side of things, Changkyun.” You’re desperate to regain the upper-hand, and he flushes a bright red at your comment, grumbling out a weak “shut up” that has you smiling.

“Have you been experimenting?” You’re still teasing him but he bristles at the insinuation that he would have been with anyone after you – you had no reason to think he hadn’t been but the mere thought of being with anyone other than you makes him ache deep in his chest, in his soul.

“No.” He tries to keep his voice calm, but it wavers still and he digs his fingernails into the soft leather of his belt, pausing. “I haven’t been with anyone since –“

He can’t say it, but you understand regardless – he doesn’t like how surprised you look, ducks his head and lets his hair obscure his view of you as he refocuses on undressing. It’s not that you’d been wrong to be surprised with his decision for today, either – before you, he’d never really definitively considered himself particularly dominant or submissive, happy with having the choice to be either at the drop of a hat. That changed with you though – you had been so uncompromising with your power, beautiful and self-assured, and he knew without a doubt that if you so much as even hinted at it he would be on his knees for you every single time.

Not that he had ever told you that, of course. He’d never told you anything he really wanted to. Even now, with you looking at him softly, trying to see if you’d crossed a line with your little teasing jabs, the words ‘I’m happy being this for you’ get stuck in his throat and all he can do is tug his shirt over his head wordlessly, fingernails clicking nervously at his belt as he undoes it. You pretend not to notice the way your heartrate accelerates as he reveals his body bit by bit to you, slender waist but powerful figure, beautiful skin, beautiful body.

“Well, then – lie down.” You gesture to your bed and he swallows down the stupid fucking butterflies he gets at the gesture – he’d been on your bed before, he’d been in this position before, there was absolutely nothing to be nervous about.

And still, despite his nerves, a pleasurable chill runs down his spine when he hears the cap of the lube being clicked open, and he forces himself to exhale as he shifts and tries to get comfortable on a comforter he no longer recognized, in a room that had no trace of him in it anymore.

You look at him with a level gaze, always so calm, and he ignores the erratic beating of his heart and nods his assent for you to begin, immediately shifting his gaze to your ceiling.

Why the fuck was he so goddamn nervous?

(He tries to forget the way he instantly whimpers when he feels your finger, slick with lube, probing at his rim, tries to forget the way he gets hard in under a minute from your heavy gaze and one finger alone, and god he aches for more, aches for anything you’re willing to give him.)

“You’re taking this awfully well.” The teasing comes out unbidden, spilling past your lips before you can even think about the words – but it’s true, for someone who had claimed to not have been with anyone since you he was taking your fingers incredibly well.

“My own hands – fuck – exist..” His snarky response turns into a shaky moan halfway through when you decide to carefully – but quickly – add a third finger. There’s something erotic (and interesting) to you about that, thinking over the fact that Changkyun had been finger-fucking himself ever since you two broke up.

“You look good like this.” It’s an attempt to make up for the previous teasing but all it does is cause him to groan and throw a forearm over his eyes, legs spreading wider when you hit that spot deep inside.

“Fuck, jesus – fuck..” It’s a broken sob instead of an actual sentence (though he manages to stick with English), a familiar feeling already building deep in his gut. He’s not sure if it’s because it’s been so long since he’d been fingered by someone else or if it’s because it’s you doing it, complimenting him while doing so, or if it’s a combination of everything, but his back arches against his will and he knows he is seconds away from coming undone already.

“Stop – stop, oh my god –“ At his desperate plea you stop moving completely and he wants to sob as the pleasurable feeling slowly ebbs away, an almost painful drag as it settles back into a dull burn. He’s gasping, tiny whimpering sounds as he sucks breath back into his lungs, chest heaving – his eyes are wide, fingers curling into your comforter. He looks frantic, frightened almost, and even if it wasn’t your responsibility you knew you’d be desperate to fix it.

“Changkyun, ar –“

“I’m fine.” He bites it out angrily, doing his absolute best to look like he had been anything but moments away from an orgasm five minutes into.. whatever this was. He’s shutting you out again, before anything even begins, and it fills you with such an irrational anger that you have to suck in a breath of your own to keep from lashing out, taking gentle care to extract your fingers even as your blood boils.

“Stop fucking lying to me.” You can’t keep the ice from your words, even if you manage to control the volume and pitch – his dark eyes snap from the ceiling to you in surprise. There’s a panicked feeling bubbling up in his chest, because he really doesn’t know if he can handle you calling him on his true feelings for you right now, doesn’t want to have to admit he still loves you while he’s naked and so vulnerable.

“I’m not –“

“Stop it.” His mouth shuts with an audible click of his teeth, so sudden is your cut-in. Your brow has smoothed out, no longer angry, instead immensely sad, and he’s not sure this is any better. “You said you wanted to do this because you didn’t have to worry about my opinion. So why are you still doing it?”

He can’t breathe, and the lube is drying sticky on your fingers, and for a moment neither of you are aware of the position you’re in, the way the thunder has become your constant background music – he’s looking at you unblinkingly and you’re staring back, and it’s too intimate, too much, but neither of you look away.

“Please stop.” He speaks and it’s barely a whisper, the sound of someone’s heart breaking louder than his voice. You don’t know what to say but open your mouth anyway.

Lightning flickers outside your bedroom window and then your apartment is shaking from the resounding thunder, the power flickering and then plunging the two of you into darkness. Suddenly you can breathe again, and you’re quickly trying to slide out from in between his legs because he said ‘stop’ and he was fully coherent even if he hadn’t said ‘red’, because he said ‘stop’ and you have only ever wanted him comfortable.

“Wait –“ He is frantic, grabs your forearm with frigid fingers as he leans half off your bed to catch you from retreating too far. It’s hard to see him but you get flashes from the light outside your window, electricity reflecting off his dark eyes in starbursts.

“You said to stop.” Your voice is broken and you feel so powerless, sick inside because while you rarely manage to ruin a scene it still tears you up inside each time, and Changkyun wouldn’t let you try to fix it with aftercare and you don’t know what to do anymore.

“I meant –“ Stop talking, stop laying me bare and open, just fuck me and make me forget everything, stop being you so I can stop loving you. “I just want to be ruined.” He says instead, and his voice is so low but so weak that you barely recognize it.

“I can’t do that if you don’t let me.” Your clean fingers curl around his and gently pry them from your arm – but then you keep holding them, and you want to let go but you can’t remember how to tell your body to do so. “Will you let me, Changkyun?”

The air is still and silent aside from the rain slashing angrily at your windows – there is no thunder, your own heartbeat loud enough (or maybe it was his, you didn’t know anymore).

“I want to.” He answers instead, voice quiet but a bit stronger than before, and your eyes have adjusted so you can see the features of his face vaguely now, follow the line of his brow to his cheek to his lips, and you’re leaning in and you hate yourself because you had promised this was the one thing you wouldn’t do.

“Let me wreck you then, baby.” And oh that nickname was a mistake but you’d said it anyway, a ghost of a whisper against his lips, a proposition and a plea all in one. He moves forward the last centimeter and connects your lips as an answer, a sound that is almost one of pure relief being ripped from his throat.

It’s like he’s been waiting years for this moment, doesn’t even fight as you grip his jaw lightly and angle him into a better position so you can scope out the inside of his mouth with your tongue, relearning things you had known long ago but had thought were forgotten.

There’s a flighty feeling in his chest, one of nervousness and expectation – he doesn’t want to give you control so easily, he doesn’t want to be opened and laid bare in front of you, he doesn’t want you to see something you dislike in him – but more than anything he wants you to touch him and keep kissing him and god he fucking misses you, has missed this. He’d asked you to ruin him, you’d asked to wreck him, but he knew he was already both ruined and wrecked just from being near you again, from having your lips on his own.

You try to slide your hands back down his body but he stops you, continues to kiss you as his fingers curl around your own, and the act is so intimate it almost feels wrong.

“Just – hurry up, I’m ready enough.” He manages to say scattered between four different kisses, never apart from your lips for more than a few seconds. You hate yourself for not even trying to stop him, leaning into them each time.

“You can stretch yourself some more while I get ready.” You have to pull away from him completely to say this, and he follows you like you’ve got some magnetic pull on him before you’re off of the bed and the connection is broken.

Even with your eyes adjusted it’s hard to properly get the harness on, fingers fumbling with the straps but managing in the end. You can hear him breathing harsh, anticipating – you can tell from the sounds alone that he hadn’t taken your advice, but you’re not surprised. Always your little pain slut, even if he had never wanted to admit it.

When you approach him again his eyes are wide, brow furrowing as he notices you’re still fully clothed – he keeps his mouth shut tight though, gaze darting in the dark. The storm still rages on outside but neither of you even notice it anymore.

Your fingers on the inside of his thigh startle him – he jumps, trying to close his legs, but you force them back open again. Something about that simple action makes a moan trickle into his throat, but he swallows it back down stubbornly.

He can’t conceal the next sound he makes when you press the blunt tip of the strap-on to his opening, though, a rasping whine as you push in slowly, so fucking slowly. Even with all the lube he knew you’d slathered over the toy it still takes a bit of work to get it into him, and every slight stretch makes him grit his teeth in a masochistic type of pleasure, feeling so full by the end that it makes him so painfully hard his head spins. It hadn’t taken long to get him worked back up, but he’s not really thinking about that right now.

All he knows is that he wants to be close to you, wants to feel good, wants to make you happy – he wants so much that he doesn’t think he can even begin to put any of it into words. It always ends up at ‘I love you’ and he already knew that was a phrase that lodged in his throat like knives.

“Please.” This he can say – you don’t know what he’s begging for but he’s begging all the same, the word ‘please’ becoming a chant that slowly shifts back into his native tongue when teeth mark his throat, fingertips pressing insistently into his hips as you fuck him hard and rough. He hopes, distantly, that it bruises. He wants to be able to remember this for as long as possible.

If he was present enough in the moment he might have been embarrassed by the sounds he was making – his naturally deep voice has transformed completely into high breathy whines, all trace of his ‘savage rapper’ persona gone when you bite his lip hard enough it throbs before you’re flipping him, pushing his shoulders down into the bed with one hand.

The feeling of your palm, small but blindingly warm on his back, makes him weak enough that his thoughts stutter, head a chaotic mess of fractured thoughts and sensations. His eyes are open but unfocused – it’s dark in the room anyway, but he’s unaware of it, cognizant only of your presence and his, that warm fuzzy feeling in his chest competing with the white-hot fire you were stoking lower in his pelvis.

You want to cry at how beautiful and perfect he is for you, the way he arches his back instinctively, presents himself as your own personal plaything – but he wasn’t yours, you had to remember that, remind yourself over and over that this was just sex. (If you repeated it enough it started to stop sounding like real words, and that was equally as dangerous as forgetting them in the first place.)

The head of the strap-on teases his entrance and he groans, clenching his fists into your pillow – you’d taken it out when you’d flipped him and he was fighting against every fucking urge and want and need his body was screaming at him to just take the plunge and force himself backwards. (But another part of his brain is telling him to wait, to make you happy, to draw this out as long as fucking possible because he has no idea if he’ll ever get to experience it again.)

“Can you tell me what you want?” Your voice is soft as silk, quiet, and a fluttery feeling rises up in his stomach at the sound, at how you’ve modified an order to be a request. He doesn’t know how he feels at the realization that you were taking it ‘easier’ on him verbally, that you had at some point come to understand he was having trouble letting go completely.

“I –“ He tries, he really fucking does, but like always the words get stuck in his throat. He just can’t seem to bring himself to admit what he really wants out loud and it is destroying him. One of your hands smooths down his side, lingering at his hip, and he feels like you’ve left behind a line of pure fire on his skin, almost burning away the shame and hatred he feels at himself for his fucking inability to be vulnerable, his cowardice.

“Just fuck me.” He says instead, defeat coating his words – and he can feel you hesitating, because it was obvious he’d meant to say something else and hadn’t.

He opens his mouth to say something, though he has no idea what, at the same instant you decide to slide the strap-on back into him. Whatever he’d been planning to do is gone from his mind instantly, his world reduced to just the dull burn, the frustratingly slow drag against his innermost walls, the way you manage to somehow brush up against the spot that has him trembling and dropping to his forearms. He curses in a strange mixture of Korean and English and you laugh softly at the sound, even as you slide out and thrust back into him hard enough that he jolts forward.

He feels, in a sense, like he is being broken in all the best ways – all he can focus on is you, all he can feel is the way you’re fucking him, grabbing at his hips. His breath is caught in his throat and he just knows he is going to ache later, bone-deep and satisfying.

But it’s not enough, never enough – you’re not asking to do more to him like you had in the past and he can’t manage to tell you what he desires most (though, at this point, he’s not totally sure he could say anything coherent anyway). He reaches back with one hand, groping – your fingers wrap around his and he drags them up to his hair, a wordless plea. He hopes you understand what he’s asking for.

A broken moan is ripped from his throat when you fist your hand in dark strands and pull backward, forcing him into an arch – his mind has blanked into varying shades of white, electricity on his skin and molten lava running through his veins, your heat against his back overwhelming.

You know it’s a bad idea before you do it, but you lean down and press you lips to his shoulder anyway, teeth scraping over feverish skin – the hoarse whine he gives at the feeling makes wetness pool between your legs, uncomfortable and wrong because this was just sex, this was just supposed to be for him.

The urge to mark him up is so strong it’s almost distracting – your hips falter in the bruising pace you’d set as your mind drifts, Changkyun groaning at the sudden shift in speed.

“Let me –“ He’s gasping, feels like he’s been running a fucking marathon or drowning (and oh, he has, drowning in you, in his expansive and terrifying feelings for you) but he knows your hips have to be sore by now and to be completely honest he is just downright greedy, wanting to feel you deep inside, wanting to –

He just wants so much. He reaches back to press at you gently and you let him move you instantly, trying to figure out what had bothered him – as soon as you realize he just wants a change in position you’re grabbing at his hips again, tugging him over your legs. His cock drags against the fabric of your shorts and he nearly sucks in a breath, trying to focus on lining himself up instead of the way it throbbed (or the way you were looking at him, hair splayed out on the pillow and yet so in command still).

He thinks he should feel more in control like this, on top of you, hands braced on your shoulders – but he doesn’t, not at all, and he knows instantly that he isn’t when you snap your hips up to meet his and he falls onto you, moan vibrating against the skin of your neck. He can feel your fingers in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, can feel the infuriatingly teasing way his cock is rubbing up against your fucking shirt you never took off. It’s gone untouched for so long that it’s absolutely aching by now and he thinks he might actually be able to orgasm like this – but he doesn’t want to, not yet, even with how border-line painful its become. He doesn’t want this to end, doesn’t want to have to go back to a world without you in it.

His hips stutter on top of yours when you tug on his hair again, grinding hard against the strap-on, and you lift his face high enough you can press your lips to his, all hot breath and panted moans. He tastes of honey and heartbreak and you want nothing more than to make him cum and fall apart, trembling, on top of you.

“Am I ruining you properly, baby?” Your voice is dark red and sinful, and he trembles at the sound and tries to seek out your lips again, a whine lodged in his throat when you tighten your grip on his hair and keep him in place, rolling your hips languidly up to meet his frantic movements. “Tell me.”

“Fuck..” He responds instead, deep and rough in his chest – it cracks into a high moan when you punish him with a harsh upwards thrust, fingers curling into your shoulders. Your soft laugh, amused or delighted he’s not sure, makes a feeling like electric butterflies break out across his skin. If you had let go of his hair he’d have buried his face into your neck again to hide his expression – but you haven’t, and he knows you can see everything, every part of him, every expression he makes.

He thinks he must look stupid, embarrassing – but all you see is pure beauty. His brow has furrowed and sweat drips down to his collarbones, bruised lips parted slightly, glistening from where you’d kissed him earlier. Hazy eyes try to look anywhere but your face failingly, allowing you to see the foggy galaxy residing in their darkness. You’re not sure if what you’re seeing is his pupil or iris, but you find it gorgeous all the same, intoxicating.

“I’m going to make you cum, Kyunnie.” He shakes at your dangerous words, your knife-sharp gaze. You’re aware he never responded to your last question. “You’ll fall apart up there, ruined, just like you asked to be.”

Your words wrap around him, coiling tightly like chains – he feels caught, trapped, and he wants nothing more than for you to make good on your word, even if it sends a sharp trill of fear through his stomach.

The grip on his hair lets go suddenly and he sags forward, as if your pull on him had been all that was keeping him upright. He’s left a mess of pre-cum on your shirt, flushes a dark red when you drag your fingers through it thoughtfully.

“Messy boy..” You muse, heat spreading through you when you see the way his cock jerks at those two simple words, so red and aching, so fucking beautiful and desperate.

Fuck, you wanted so badly for him to be yours.

One of his hands flies to your wrist when you finally wrap your fingers around him – more of his weight is on you now but you can’t find it in yourself to mind, not with the way he’s breathing hot and wet against your neck, the way he doesn’t stop you when you move your hand, just clings to your arm desperately like he’s not totally sure he wants to be touched yet.

A choked sound leaves his mouth, lips bitten bloody, and you turn your head so you can breathe against his ear, let him press his face further into your neck. “Such a little whore..” You murmur, and he sobs open-mouthed against your skin and thrusts weakly into your fingers and then back onto the strap-on, unsure of which feeling he wanted more of. “So beautiful. So perfect.”

A part of him feels like he’s dying, unsure if he was really okay with being so vulnerable with you – but another part of him, the larger part, feels like he is fucking soaring, like this is all he had ever wanted and more. There are flames licking at his body, coiling tighter and tighter in his stomach, and he’s not sure how much longer he can last like this.

“You can fall, Changkyun.” Your voice is in his ear, like the sound of silk sliding over skin, fingernails tracing lightly along the back of his neck. He hates the way he reacts so viscerally to it, climax surging forward at the sound, at the way your fingers slide wetly over the head of his cock pinned in between the two of you. “It’ll be okay, you can fall to pieces. I’ll catch you.”

He orgasms with a wail that makes him flush a dark red, and he would have been mortified at the sound if every nerve ending in his body wasn’t currently sparking, his muscles spasming as he tries to keep thrusting into your fist even as the lightning bolt sensations turn from overwhelming to painful. He doesn’t even realize tears have slipped from his eyes until he feels your lips kissing them away, and he is hit with such a wave of emotion that he can’t breathe all over again (and it is just pure emotion, he couldn’t identify a single one of them if he tried).

After you slowly pulled out and settle him on the blankets he watches, distractedly, as you slide the straps down over your hips, leaving it on the floor to be dealt with later. Impulsively he reaches out to catch the edge of your shorts when you try to head to the bathroom, tongue sliding over chapped lips when you turn that powerful, beautiful gaze of yours on him. One of your eyebrows has raised, appraising him as he slowly tugs you back to the bed until you’re resting on your knees next to his waist. Sweat is drying sticky on his skin and he’s trying not to feel like he’d done something wrong, reacted in some undesirable way that you’d remember and relate to him for the rest of your life - but above all that, he wants to taste you. It’s the only consistent thought running through his mind, more prevalent than the lingering unease at having bared so much of himself to you.

“Please.” Again, it’s all he can say, eyes so dark and wide, pleading – his fingertips rest lightly on your hip, over the waistband of your shorts, lips parted ever so slightly. It’s so obvious what he’s asking for, and you want to say no. You’re pretty sure you need to say no. “Babe –“

You surge forward to cut him off mid-sentence with a brutal kiss and he gasps – you didn’t want to hear that, and you can tell from the way he’s frozen that he hadn’t meant to say it, even as his body returns the kiss on pure muscle memory alone. This entire experience had been a mess, a mistake, and yet –

“Okay.” It’s more a breath against his mouth than a word, but the way he smiles at your soft agreeance makes your heart hurt. You were in so deep, had fallen so far – how foolish of you to think you had been over him. How fucking stupid you’d been.

He wastes no time, pulling your shorts and underwear down like he’d done it hundreds of times before – because he had, you note dully – fingers wrapping around your thighs. When you sink down onto his face a tension drains out of his body that neither of you had even noticed was still lingering.

All he can smell is you, all he can taste is you – you surround him and this is all he’s ever fucking wanted, to be possessed by you, to be as close to you as possible. He’s not even totally sure what he’s doing aside from the fact that he’s putting his absolute all into it – he’s just trying to taste every inch of you he can, tongue delving as deep as possible before switching to suck on your clit. There’s no rhyme or reason to his method and it has you letting out a quiet sigh that borders on a gasp. He tries to memorize the sound instantly – any sound he could get out of you was a treasure in itself, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to hear them again after this.

There is no particular build-up to your orgasm – it’s at first lingering briefly bone-deep and then suddenly it is upon you in streaks of lightning, hips grinding against his face but mouth stubbornly shut. You can’t let this be any more intimate than it already was. (And yet you instinctively reach down and lace your fingers with his, and his thumb smooths across the back of your hand as he continues to mouth at your cunt, drink up your fluids. You are so utterly and completely stupid, your heart in your throat.)

There is a moment you want to carve out afterwards, a small bubble in time where the two of you could just bask in the afterglow and pretend like nothing had changed from a year ago – but you can’t let yourself do that, pushing yourself up off the bed even as every fiber of you begs to remain beside him for a moment longer. His fingers remain holding yours a moment too long before dropping to your bedspread, defeated.

Your heart suddenly felt like it was three sizes too big for your body, filled to the brim with love for a man you knew you’d have no second chance with, and you clench your teeth tightly to keep it from oozing out between your teeth like bittersweet sugar.

He’s still panting when you return with a damp cloth, reaches for it as if he really expects you to make him clean himself off. You scoff and catch his hand with your own, setting it back down on the bed as you begin to clean off his face first. Whether you wanted to avoid intimacy or not there were things you simply refused to throw to the wayside just because you wanted to remain distant, and one of those was taking care of him after sex. (He’s more receptive this time than he used to be, not fighting you and claiming he was fine, letting you dote on him with a sort of hesitant and soft acceptance. It makes your heart hurt all the more, the pure ache and want almost unbearable.)

“You’re always so messy..” It’s meant to be a light comment but the two of you accidentally lock gazes when you say it, your hand stalling in its motions. He looks like he wants to say something, lips parting – your breath catches in your throat, waiting, but he ultimately just shuts his mouth, gaze darting away from you. Your breath leaves you in a small burst. “Just relax, Kyun, I’ve got you.”

It’s the typical words you say to a sub after an intense session (with an accidental affectionate nickname that you bite the inside of your cheek for), but you mean them, and you don’t want to, but you do, irrevocably. You know that if he needed it, if he asked for it, you would let him stay here for as long as he wanted. You knew that tonight you wouldn’t be asking him to leave. And for that you are so, so incredibly fucked. (You wonder if he is too, judging from the way his eyes widen at the nickname and his breath stutters – but you crush that thought instantly, don’t dare to get your hopes up.)

He’s surprised that you take the time to clean him up, bring him water and a change in clothes – they aren’t his but they’re clearly a man’s, and he wonders if they belong to Hoseok considering the size. Something deep in his chest hurts at that thought. He’s even more surprised when you pull on an oversized shirt instead of telling him to leave – he faintly realizes that he recognizes it, a soft violet that hung down to your lower thighs and always felt soft against his chest when he’d hold you – crawling into bed next to him after changing into it, though he’s automatically moving to accommodate you, perfectly content to throw the thick comforter to the floor to be dealt with in the morning.

“Is.. this okay?” Your voice is quiet, so tentative and soft and hesitant, and all he wants to do is tell you yes, this was more than okay, this was everything he had ever wanted.

“Yeah – I mean, it’s your bed, so..” He hates himself for the way he responds, swallowing hard but taking the initiative to slide his arm over your side, nose in your hair. He can feel the way you tense, but you don’t say anything against it or try to pull away. “And.. this? It’s okay too?”

“…it’s okay.” It’s a small response but he inhales deeply in relief, drinking in your scent half by accident. It’s the same smell he had missed for so long, the one he’d dream of and wake up thinking there was a chance it still lingered on his pillow, heart dropping through his ribcage when he realized it wasn’t.

Despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach you fall asleep fast, mentally drained and physically exhausted - his fingers trace the line of your shoulder, head pillowed on his own arm as he watches you sleep. There is a purely warm and happy feeling trying to spread through his body, but it doesn’t make it very far before the remembrance that you still weren’t his and he still wasn’t yours freezes it in its tracks. He feels like his heart is melting, dripping through his ribs and oozing into his stomach and making him sick.

He’s shaking your shoulder before he even knows what he’s doing, and you’re half-awake and groggy but so fucking beautiful and every single one of his nerves feels like a live wire underneath his skin, buzzing and loud and painful, and he is so scared, but he is also tired. Tired of hurting, tired of missing you, tired of the way Kihyun will be talking about you but stop awkwardly when he notices Changkyun listening, tired of the way he smiles so big his cheeks hurt when the two of you talk on the phone, tired of how he swallows down the words “love you” every time you hang up – and he’s fucking tired of being scared most of all.

“Changkyun, you better be fucking dying..” You’re angry, always angry when woken suddenly, and he just wants to kiss you.

‘I love you, I’m stupid, I was scared, I always loved you, I never fucking stopped, did you know I would dream of you? Did you know that you were the only thing on my mind? On plane rides, in the vans, backstage, all I could think about was you and my hyungs all told me I was just hurting myself and I knew that but I still hoped that somehow you and I would end up happy together.’

Like always he can’t say any of it. It sits on his tongue and he just utters a quiet ‘fuck’ instead, throat tight. Why couldn’t he fucking do this?

“..Kyun?” He’s sitting up now, and you are too, side by side – your expression is open, sleepy but worried, and he has a sudden urge to take your face in his hands and kiss your eyelids.

The scariest part of telling the truth, of laying yourself bare for someone, of letting them in, was that they could take one look and never come back. And maybe he’s not afraid of loving you – maybe he’s never been afraid of loving you, with your eyes that hold the only stars he ever wants to look at. Maybe he’s been afraid of not being loved back.

He swallows hard, reaches for every bit of confidence and courage performing has ever given him, forces himself to be brave the way the industry has taught him to be. Moonlight filters in through the window and he thinks your eyes might actually house the milky way in them somehow.

“I love you, still – always. I never stopped.”

He can’t breathe because you’re just looking at him, stunned and disbelieving, tears collecting on your lash-line but not falling, never falling, and he feels like the fucking worst for telling you now, this way, this bluntly – but he knows if he didn’t say anything he would have never said anything, and he’s not sure he could have survived that, so the words had fallen from his lips hard and heavy and desperate to be said. (And a part of him is still surprised he even managed to say them at all, rushed and frantic as they were.)

“I –“ Your brow is furrowed and your voice is thick, but when he reaches to brush your tears away you let him and his lungs start to tentatively fill themselves with oxygen again.

When you smile it is watery and weak but it is there, and he feels like sunlight has reappeared in the lining of his skin, bright and blinding and warm.

#sub!changkyun #sub!monsta x #changkyun x reader #monsta x reactions #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #i don't usually do happy endings but this one just happened #i'm going straight to hell for this

[svtskneecaps]

Walls Could Talk Part 12 ~ something i need to tell you

(Seventeen Fic, Superpower! Non-Idol! High school! AU)

You’re just a high school kid trying to survive your senior year. Seems simple enough. Problem is, you landed a major crush on a good looking transfer student, and unfortunately, the both of you are hiding some abilities that are a bit less than normal, and there’s a ghost you thought you buried in your past that’s rearing his ugly head. So… maybe this won’t be as easy as you were hoping.

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warnings: descriptions of anxiety attacks. skip from the marker (2) to the end (you’re not missing much crucial information but i can and will summarize if you're concerned)

feel free to tell me if i need to extend the section, i thought i got the worst of it but as someone with mild issues i have no real experience and want it to be as safe as possible for people; and tell me if i need to add another section (i’ll be out of state when this goes up so i might not be able to get to it right away..... i’m sorry)

“Is there anywhere private we can talk here?”

What the hell are you supposed to say to that?

Faced with Jun’s earnest and almost concerned expression, you stammer out something about outside during lunch. He gives the window an appraising glance. It’s been cooling down quickly, hovering in the low forties most days. He must've seen something he liked, because he turned back to you and said, “Lunch then?”

No really, what the hell are you supposed to say to that?

You drop into your seat as the bell rings, breathless and terrified, your stomach churning like a hurricane as you whip out the math homework due a week ago, the numbers doing little to settle your nerves. That could mean any number of things. Did he notice your none-too-subtle crush? Was he doing this to kindly turn you down? Did he share the sentiment? Or did he--you buried your face behind a tangle of hands and hair, trying to hide the trembling wracking your shoulders--did he find the article from all those years ago and want to confront you about it, forgetting that it was public, that it was immortalized in the online archives? You were joking when you texted 8; no matter how approachable Jun was you had never, never considered telling him. You’d thought it was buried so deep they could never find it.

But it would never really be buried far enough. And, as you dragged yourself out of your protective cocoon for a cursory google of your name, there it was. The first result, since you had long pulled accounts with your name on them off the search results after constant reminders. The unpleasant feeling leaked out of your stomach, lead infecting your veins.

“Last Friday, a local teen was hospitalized after--”

You slammed the computer shut on instinct as it began to read the article aloud to you, like a setting you couldn't shut off. A flush spread across your cheeks as everyone looked back at you. Their gazes lasted only a second, but they tore worse than claws. This whole damn thing was bringing up more memories than you cared to admit, you should've shut down the train before it left the station, should've shut up and sat down and stifled it. He was probably just going to turn your crush down (and in light of the alternatives, it was almost a relief to think that).

You shoved the computer in your backpack as it continued reading, words for your ears alone, muffled and distorted but you’d stared at that damn article for hours after that first day back enough that every word was ingrained in your memory and every rumor rattled in your brain and whispered in your ears when it was quiet, overpowering the comforting chatter of all the objects around you. You put your headphones in and played music as loud as you dared. “Ten minutes,” the clock helpfully reminded you. Ten minutes to the reckoning, for everything to come collapsing down on you. You made a mental note to ask Miss Mendes if you could go to the nurse after lunch; you didn't dare come back here.

Two minutes to Armageddon. You’d asked Miss Mendes. You must've looked sicker than you thought because she didn't hesitate to agree. You'd long finished your math homework, even though you kept breaking your pencil lead and ripping holes in the paper. You fiddled with your pencil, staring at the clock with no small amount of apprehension, trying not to think.

You could hear the class in the background working on a worksheet together, Seokmin’s excited voice rising to the top and making you drowsy, against all logic (not that you particularly minded). Time blurred as your head slumped onto your arms.

The bell broke through your dazed stupor, sending everything crashing back. Your hands started to shake again as you fumbled with your ID, keys jingling against it as you stood. Jun was waiting by the door already, and you lead the way through the halls.

Out by the mascot statue on the side lawn, you’d heard, was the best place to talk privately. From there you could see all angles, and between the mascot’s feet was a small space where one could conceal oneself from all angles. Nobody tended to use it for talking, exactly, but you were banking on Jun not knowing the usual implications of the spot.

“So,” you said, crammed into a spot behind the mascot’s knee, back pressed against the cold statue, speaking in a vain attempt to cover your mounting terror, “what’s up?”

“I--” he started. And then stopped. And then hesitated. And oh no.

Your nerves jangled like your keys, and you had to tear your eyes away, forcing yourself to trace over the graffiti keyed into the statue before you spilled some beans that shouldn't go in the soup. If he didn't know about the article, or your crush, or your-- other thing, then you didn't want to tip him off.

“You-- speak Korean, don't you?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Of everything, that? “That's what we had to talk about?”

“Well, no,” he said (and boy if that didn't send you spiraling back). “I just-- I don't trust my English. And this is important.”

Do you admit it? The secret you’ve held this whole semester? Lay your cards before you? It wasn't really even a question. “Well, my speaking isn't-- I’m not comfortable speaking it,” you said, starting over before you diss yourself because by god you're trying not to. “But if you speak slowly I should understand most things.”

He nodded, and then stared out across the lawn. You went back to tracing the graffiti, hearts with initials from the eighties and the sixties and the twenty tens scratched on the mascot’s heels. An anarchy symbol between the toes. A--

“I’mamindreader,” Jun exploded.

Your head shoots up. “Slower?”

“I--” he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can't think of a delicate way of putting this. I’m a mind reader.”

Oh.

(2)

Should you have guessed? Maybe you should have guessed. But- no, what kind of crazy assumption would that have been?? Yes, you talked to objects that didn't have voices on a daily basis but that didn't mean you were just up and guessing what strange power your friends would have, especially after- no he might be listening don't you dare but your heart jumped into your throat unbidden. He was saying something but you felt miles away, watching his mouth move through a telescope because how much did he know?? With the guilt on his face you were sure it was everything and it was like everything you feared most had collided, the car crash morphing into a t-bone between a gas tanker and a train because he knew about your crush knew about the Bad Place knew about Derek knew knew knew he’d violated the one space you’d thought was sacred you wanted to throw up.

“I need space,” you choked out, hands reaching clumsily to pull yourself out of the alcove, and it wasn't the graceful exit you wanted and you felt like every emotion was plastered on your face and you didn't even hear his response as you all but sprinted across the lawn, running for your car as fast as humanly possible.

You collapsed into the driver’s seat and hid your head behind the steering wheel and your hair and your hands, desperately trying not to cry. You already regretted your harsh exit (he’d bared his soul to you and this was how you repaid it? god, you were just vying for the worst, weren’t you, you ranked up there with Derek) but if you'd stayed longer--

You couldn't. You’d done enough harm just by admitting it in the first place. He was your friend, he’d brought you into the fold, and you were terrified of an aspect of himself he couldn't change? And with your reaction, he probably thought you hated him, would never speak to him again. How was he to know you’d panicked on the spot? (unless he was in your mind again but you didn't want to think about it because that was much much worse than him just seeing hatred; he didn't deserve to be dragged into a panic attack no one did it was the most selfish thing you’d ever done).

You sent Miss Mendes a shakily typed email, wishing you’d thought to grab your stuff before leaving. You just thought you'd feel well enough to grab your stuff, no matter which bomb he dropped on you. She shot back a response immediately, concerned but not prying. She promised to leave your stuff by the door, and honestly the twelve thank yous you typed in your response didn't even cover it (what had a person like you done to deserve an understanding angel of a teacher like her?).

Your car threatened to run them over a couple times before realizing it wasn't helping and subsided. There wasn’t much she could offer, right then. You didn't want to talk (you’d explode if you even dared open your mouth).

The walk back up to the building was excruciating. Every step was a chore. Against all logic you felt eyes on you the whole time, judging, whispering, pitying, The hallways were empty, and the feeling just persisted. Each step echoed off the walls, impossibly loud.

True to her word, Miss Mendes had left your things just inside the door. You avoided eye contact, hiding your face with the door and only opening it wide enough to grab your things (you knew what you’d find if you looked up, hatred and betrayal and just the thought made you nauseous).

You spent the remainder of the day in the counseling center. (they let you alphabetize the files in the back room, with the lights off, once you said you couldn't talk about it and just needed a place to hide calm down)

#seventeen #wen junhui #seventeen au #wen junhui au #junhui #seventeen scenarios #junhui scenario #wen junhui imagines #seventeen imajines #seventeen fluff #wen junhui fluff #seventeen angst #wen junhui angst

[theanimeview]

Spirit King Elqueeness: Review, Analysis, & A Plea for More

Please like and share this post! Currently unlicensed in English (BUT NEEDS TO BE). You can see the Korean version here. According to the baka-updates, the manga has over 100 chapters out and according to me, this series deserves more attention, more love, and more translations!

I read a lot, I mean a lot, of stories, particularly of the isekai genre lately, and this by far is one of the best in terms of storyline that I’ve seen with only about 15 fan-translated chapters to go off of as of yet. It starts with tragedy, not only is our main character abused at home, he dies young in an accident. Then he finds out that all of his struggles until then (struggles to not only survive the abuse he is receiving but eventually move past the trauma to find the familial love he’s longed for all his life) has been in vain because he was never supposed to be born there in the first place. Rather, he was supposed to be born as a Spirit King instead of as the pitiable human he was before. 

Chapter 4 paints a picture of how spirit kings are revealed: first one chooses from seven cards that signify the type of soul you have (elves, humans, demons, gods, dragons, dwarves, and spirits), then there is a subsequent set of cards specifically for the nature of said soul. From this, you can gather that spirit kings are specifically people(s) that choose the spirit card and one of the four natures--in this case, the spirit of water. No other spirit of that nature can be born until the spirit king arrives, which seems to mean that when the spirit king dies, so do all of the remaining water spirits left behind, allowing for them to be replaced by the next generation (the death of the remaining spirits of that nature is inferred not directly stated). The soul guides tell him that his soul must be that of Elqueeness since no other water spirit has come in the 16 years since his soul was lost on Earth.

During this time, Elqueeness is shown to be very unique. He is rarely angry, choosing instead to accept what has happened and move on. He is very forgiving I think, but that doesn’t mean that the human life and trauma won’t pop-up again or change his perception of the world now that he is reincarnating to his proper role as a Spirit King. 

During reincarnation, we see his birth as the new fully formed Spirit King of Water, naive and delicate as his current appearance is and different from the former king as all of the other spirit kings note:

In a beautifully funny way, this prefaces our meeting of the former Elqueeness--if the current Elqueeness is like a gentle stream, then the former Elqueeness was a raging storm--two different sides of a temperamental body of nature with the power to back it up. 

Picking water was probably no mistake by the creator as people rarely attribute gentle behavior to a fiery temper, nor gentleness with the earth. What I mean is, think back to other representations of the four elements--earth is steady, fire is passion and anger, the wind is flowy and can cause a lot of damage but when it does, it’s often paired with one of the other four elements (like a rainstorm, sand storm, or even raging fire). Water personalities are often shown to be flexible to different paths, patient, but still very powerful. 

Elqueeness acts as our interpreter of this new world of spirits and, like us, he is confused by it. Sure, he may be an over-powered demi-god but he doesn’t know it yet nor does he know how to use that power or even think that he could have such power after his treatment in the last life, which makes the story so fun to read. 

Already I have a theory about this series and it is only a few chapters in, which to me is a sign of great storytelling potential. I made a note already that he was abused in his former life as a human, yet he seems to be able to mostly move past this trauma very quickly following his rebirth. Not to say that there are not some human parts still ingrained deeply into his spirit, the trauma being one of them, but that they are not nearly as impactful as another human might take them. I believe the reason he is able to overcome so much of the abuse he suffered before has a lot to do with him being a spirit soul rather than a human one, at least that might explain it to me. Of the four spirit kings, Elqueeness is by far the most “human.” What I mean by that is that while the other four spirit kings display emotions, Elqueeness has the widest range of them and is perhaps the only one longing for something beyond the realm of spirits. He’s looking for family, particularly love of a family. In some ways, the other spirit kings might provide this, but thus far it doesn’t seem so. 

Of the four, the other three spirit kings seem inflexible to what they are or could be--they’re Spirit Kings, the spirits they make are just extensions of themselves, and nature is their domain, why think too hard about human struggles? Why look at the other spirits as children or anything more? (Other inferred things, not explicitly stated.) However, the current Elqueeness is interested in humans, is open to seeing his spirits as more than extensions of himself following a conversation with the god that formerly was in the same role and of the same name, the god Elrien. 

Elrien also makes a note of the difference between this Elqueeness and others--this Elqueeness, our Elqueeness, is more emotional and sympathetic. In essence, a non-human individual we might refer to as more human simply because of his emotional range. But who knows? Maybe as the story progresses we’ll see more of how trauma is treated in the story, after all, just past Chapter 10 we are introduced to so many different plot potentials where rejection, family drama, and more can be expanded upon in the growing narrative. 

Have I hooked you into how interesting this story is yet? Do you need more? Because I HAVE MORE ->

Let’s look at the art. Look at these two adorable and beautiful people:

For the most part, the art is like the sample shown above, lots of bright colors paint this world when things are new, exciting, or just positive in general and when things are sad, it's framed in darkness--ah, simplicity of color-coordinating emotional tone, thank you. BUT beyond that, the varying thickness of lines and overall roundness of the art style generally knows what it is and by that I mean that it really opens itself to moments of comedy and moments of beauty just for the sake of beauty, for example:

^chibi forms and lacking features=comedy purposes,

^then this ethereal entrance by Elqueeness -- all in the same art style and coloring, just adjusting the level of detail slightly so that any moment can easily flow from beauty to comedy to plot-driven story elements to whatever without having to emphasize points of changing styles or dramatize them heavily in the art style to make them funny or stand out because the art allows comedy and the more serious plot points to just flow naturally between one another in this series. 

BUT, you say to me, But, what else? 

WHAT ELSE? You ask?? Oh. I see, my love and devotion to art and title character are not enough--you want more--fine. Fine. More you shall get:

Here is an interesting things I just noticed in my latest re-read of the very short version I have available to me thus far via Google translate and fan-translations: the Spirit King seems to have certain peoples tied to their respective elements--for example, red dragons are associated with fire, and blue dragons with water--and it's not unheard of for the Spirit Kings and, by extension the spirits they make (like the former Elqueness) to be biased towards peoples not of their element. It is also evident that water is the most powerful of the four, with our Elqueness being the first to have such little expression of that power so far. With how biased the former Elqueness was, it is likely that water mages or contractors of water-based peoples/spirits like blue dragons might have had a lot of political and social power prior to the former Elqueness‘ death and the current Elqueness’ 16 years missing time as a human in which nature was thrown off course. How might this development have shaped what's going on in the story? Well, for those interested, we can already see a sliver of how much the world has been shaken by Elqueness’ absence. In addition to the disbalance in nature, such as the intensive droughts taking place all over the earth, panic and frenzy has caused untold unrest in the various peoples that exist on the spirit-run plain, even so far as using Elqueness’ name (rather, the lack of water) as the reason for killing of a King. 

This is setting up a political plot around water, and given the subtext that the story has provided so far, I bet the political story will be a really f-ing good one. Plus, I just found out there is a novel! This series has so much to offer and I bet it will give us even more as it progresses.  

In conclusion, it’s interesting, it's fun, it's unique to its genre, and it needs more love. The fan-translators are doing a great job, but without love it will probably be dropped for other series translations and will never be legally licensed with an English release. Its been dropped before (twice, I think, since I started following it) and that breaks my heart. I absolutely love this series and I hope you all will love it too. I recommend checking out the Korean version on kakaopage if you find Google translate acceptable for the first attempt at reading (I do, but it is a struggle to get things a lot of the time). Right now, the first 28 chapters are free! 

So, if you’re looking for a good read, I hope you’ll check it out if you see the title!

#elquinus #spirit king elqueeness #정령왕 엘퀴네스 #elqueeness #spirit king elquinus #analysis #theory

[abeautifulblog]

Okay I just binge-read the entirety of A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood and just low-key started immediately re-reading it? But ANYWAY, I was also kind of just... strolling through this entire tumblr because meta and headcanons are my jam ANYWAY I got to the point where you mentioned Briar and Hazel calling Joseph "Uncle" and why they would do it and not any of the other kids in the neighborhood and I have a theory (which I don't THINK I saw in a different post but if it's already been (1/2)

(2/2) If it’s already been mentioned–whoops…) BUT, my theory: I mean it might lose some validity since Craig seems like at LEAST a second generation Korean dude, if not more (I mean he has a pretty Western first name as do all of his kids and his last name doesn’t sound hugely Korean either) BUT if he was raised with similar values OR if he’s trying to raise his kids with some connection to culture??? Like, I’m East Asian but not I’m not Korean so I can’t speak (2/3)  

(3/3 hopefully jfc) I can’t speak specifically to Korean culture but based on Chinese and Japanese culture, calling a older guy Uncle wouldn’t be horrendously weird. I mean, it does get a little odd since they’ve been raised (presumably) in the US so they wouldn’t have the ingrained habit of calling some dude Uncle? And, like I said, I would guess that they are at least a few generations descended from whoever immigrated (like, Craig’s grandparents at the earliest but I would be willing to (¾)   

(4/4 I am so sorry) but yeah at least Craig’s grandparents in terms of time so unless he was getting his kids to go to like, Sunday school since they were young? Which I know is a thing for Chinese and Japanese kids so maybe they are for Korean kids too? I don’t even know. I feel like I just offered a theory and then spent time explaining while it may NOT be true and what am I even doing lol. Anyways. I’ve been having fun??? Thanks for the fic and tumblr it’s been a blast XD jfc            

**

Hello and welcome! Glad you’re having fun, and don’t be shy to talk theories and meta, it’s my favorite hobby. :)

I agree, Craig’s obviously at least second-generation – he’s more culturally Californian than anything else. (Funny story, my Craig-writing friend and I, who were not aware of each other’s work when we started, both independently picked Santa Cruz for Craig’s hometown, even though it’s never suggested in-game. He just seems like a Santa Cruz kind of guy.)

Craig’s last name is German-Jewish, actually. And Craig doesn’t look half-white – but looks are frequently deceiving when it comes to mixing gene pools, so who knows, he could be.

(It’s also possible that their name got anglicized when they immigrated – this is less prevalent a practice than it was at the heyday of Liberty Island in the 1910s, but it used to be that everybody got their name chopped and mangled so that dumb Americans could remember/pronounce it. There are a lot of east Asian surnames that could have become “Cahn.”)

I can’t speak to Korean/Chinese culture, but I can confirm that in Japan, calling unrelated, middle-aged men “uncle” is standard operating procedure – it’s about their age bracket, not their relation to you. Just like their equivalent of “dude” is “oniisan,” literally “older brother.” (Example usage: one time I was walking around in Tokyo and a guy about my age dropped his wallet in the street and didn’t notice, just kept walking away. He was about thirty feet off, I needed to get him to stop, but I had a moment of “how the fuck do I address him? (So that he’ll know he’s the one being hollered at?)” In English you’d be like, “HEY! HEY DUDE! YOU DROPPED YOUR WALLET!” And then I was like – oh right. “ONIISAN! SAIFU OTOSHICHATTA!!”)

…Anyway. If Craig were closer to his east Asian heritage (whichever culture that may be – he’s never explicitly said to be Korean, is he?) and making the effort to keep his daughters in touch with their heritage, then them calling Joseph “uncle” would make a lot of sense. (Though – they would also be doing the same to every other dad on the block, and we don’t hear that. But given the limited number of interactions we see with them, that could be just a coincidence.)

But as far as I’m aware, Craig’s never shown doing anything that isn’t 100% American bro culture. (Like, they could have made him any race and not had to change his story/dialogue at all.) I’m sure you could come up with an explanation for why the twins retained that one particular cultural quirk (spent a lot of time around their more-traditional grandparents, etc), but it seems pretty clear they didn’t get it from Craig.

In conclusion, your theory is an interesting one that had not occurred to me before, and is as plausible as anything else we’ve come up with. ^_^ The other theories being that Smashley is actually Joseph’s sister (😱) or that Joseph told them to call him that, as part of his “I’m so friendly and folksy” routine to ingratiate himself with Craig. (😠)

(Hmm, I wonder if the devs would answer that question for me if I wrote in and asked them. They tend to steer clear of questions about Joseph, when the answer would settle the question of his character once and for all, but that one seems harmless enough…)

#THE UNCLE CONTROVERSY #dream daddy

[trilliath]

I can see how it could be annoying when the word is the same and it’s just the pronunciation that is wrong, like in the case of personal names (For example, i was living in Korea for six months and, since they couldn’t pronounce Karla because of the rl combo, I got used to being called Kala, but I know people who put more of an effort in correcting) what I meant was more along the lines of it being a whole different word in another language. Like, Germany-Deutschland or Japan-Nippon and so on 1/

Btw this is not meant to be argumentative or mean spirited! I just really love languages and I can truly see both sides, like I really get how it could be annoying. Your post was really interesting and I just wanted to hear more! So don’t feel obligated to publish if it annoyed you 2/2

I didn’t feel it was argumentative, and hopefully I didn’t come across that way either since I too just find languages interesting - but it’s kind and considerate of you to specify your tone - thank you!

Is the R rolled in Karla? (One of my best friends growing up is named Karla but the flat American way.) Boy that would be hard for Korean-native tongues. I’ve found that R is such a funny sound around the world, it has so many different distinct versions that aren’t shared between languages. Even otherwise-close languages.

Things like Germany-Deutschland and Japan-Nippon/Nihon are really interesting historically, how they got their different name in another language. Now like - i’m not a history nerd at all so don’t quote me on this but “German” and variations are interesting because for most places in europe, as I understand it, it was kindof a name that developed differently for a bunch of neighboring languages referring to “those german-type peoples in their various villages and mini-kingdoms”, (usually around whichever group was closest to the borders of their own country) before Deutschland was even a cohesive nation and that nation grew its own name. On the other hand like with Japan/Nippon (again, from what I understand) it’s really just a massive game of “Telephone” where it got passed along wronger and wronger over the oceans on its way back to english-speaking countries, and then got publicized under the new wrong name “Japan” and that was the only name everyone knew forever more. 

Still, I personally really like the idea of showing respect for another group of people by going “Oh, you’ve decided to call yourself Deutschland now? Cool, I will now call you by the name you chose yourself instead of the nickname I used before”… or “Oh man, I’ve been calling you Japan this whole time when it’s really Nippon? Darn, I must’ve misunderstood, but ok, I will call you Nippon now.”

Edit: And I should add, I think my actual irritation stems more from the like - refusal to even try when it’s so much more accessible now. Köln is NOT that hard to say for an English speaker - not in an age where you can open up duolingo for free, or click the pronunciation button on wikipedia. The same way it’s not that hard to look up the fact that a name like Евгений starts with a Ye sound in Russian even though most Russians choose to keep the “E” shaped letter to start their name when switching alphabets because… familiar letters are also important when it comes to your name. Or for another example it isn’t hard to look up how a hockey player whose name is Åberg actually starts with an O sound not an A sound, especially if it’s literally your job to say his name on TV. It’s a pet peeve of mine when people don’t even try.

But yeah you’re right, I personally would prefer to call Germany Deutschland or Japan Nippon/Nihon but I almost never do in conversation because most english-native people wouldn’t know what I was talking about. And also people do kinda sound like an ass and/or pretentious if they’re overpronouncing something “correctly” instead of it being natural. It’s so thoroughly culturally ingrained that way it’d be hard to change. And maybe when it comes to something as big as an entire country name it’s too big a thing to move (at least without there being a particular good reason and a concerted public effort), but on the other hand like, honestly most americans wouldn’t know what or where Köln was to begin with so there’s not that same massive momentum behind the wrong name - at least over here. I wouldn’t be surprised if most of the canadian/american commentators for the hockey game I was watching probably had to look it up before they went on air, so that seems like a perfect opportunity to try and say it right (though obviously when they look it up it’ll just say cologne on wikipedia so eh, idk hahaha).

#replies #nonnerpants #trill talks languages

[d-noona]

BODYGUARD MISSION

SUMMARY: Y/N had teased him, insulted him, but still she seemed to be stuck with Park Jimin as her official chaperone. He'd been appointed to look after her during a crucial assignment in Korea, and he refused to leave her sight - day and night. Jimin was taking this bodyguard business far too seriously. Just because Y/N was pretty and petite, that didn't mean she isn't a force to be reckoned with. She would not be seduced by Jimin. At least, that was the idea. Until her twenty-four-hour bodyguard decided the safest place for her was his bed.

WORDS: 1719

Park Jimin x Reader

CHAPTER 02 - Coming Soon!

CHAPTER 01 – THE AIRPORT

“Damn!” Y/N thought angrily, and exclaimed, “But I won’t need an interpreter.”

“Do you speak Korean?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do,” she said triumphantly. But then she looked into her boss’s skeptical eyes, reluctantly added, “A little.” “How little?” asked her boss. She gave him one of her sudden smiles, her brown eyes lighting with mischief. “Enough to say no if I’m propositioned.” He laughed, wanting to be serious but unable to resist her smile. “But do you speak enough Korean to recognize a proposition if you hear one?”

“One could be deaf and dumb and still recognize that!” He shook his head at her and said, “I know you’re a capable career woman and all the rest of it, but I’m not going to risk letting you go in Korea without someone keeping an eye on you.” Y/N hated the sound of that; she had reasons, important and secret reasons –of her own for going to Korea that had nothing to do with the assignment she’d been given, and to have someone looking over her shoulder would be inconvenient to say the least. But it was important not to jeopardize the trip so, to keep the boss sweet, she smiled and said, “OK, leave it with me. I’ll find someone out there.”

“No need,” he said with a pleased note. “I already know someone based in Seoul. A family friend, I suppose you could call him. His name is Park Jimin and he works for a bank that’s opening up a branch over there. He speaks the language, plus he can communicate in English, and will give you all the help you need. I’ll have him meet you when you arrive.”

“Wonderful.” Y/N enthused, while inwardly cursing, and she determined to get rid of this extremely unwanted man at the first opportunity. She thought the opportunity would present itself at Seoul Airport. Surely in the bustle of a huge international concourse it would be possible to lose herself in the crowd, slip into a taxi and so free herself of her boss’s pal right at the start. There was bustle, all right. There was complete chaos, and that was even before Y/N got through the concourse. Everybody seemed to be flying in to Korea that August day, and they were all herded into a great crowd that gradually developed into long queues of passengers waiting to have their visas and passports checked, the officials’ achingly slow and letting only one person through at a time.

Y/N stood in the queue for over two long hours, weighed down by her expensive camera equipment that she didn’t dare rest on the ground in case it got kicked by people pressing all around her. A large man stood on her foot, and a fat woman with elbows made of steel tried to push in front of her, thinking Y/N a soft touch because she was so petite, but received a blazing look from angry brown eyes that stopped her in her tracks. The only compensation in all this, Y/N decided, was that Park Jimin would certainly have given up on her and gone home long before she got through. Once past this barrier she had to join another queue to change some money into Korean Won, retrieve her suitcase, and wait in yet another line to go through the baggage check, so that it was over three hours before Y/N eventually emerged, tired, hot and thirsty, into the main concourse.

She didn’t even bother to look for some middle age man with a very fed-up expression holding up a board with her name on it, but just headed for the welcome air and a taxi. There were a lot of taxis, all looking equally old and unreliable, but before Y/N could get a hand free to hail one, a modern silver grey Mercedes, large and sleek, pulled up at the curb beside her. A man got out, quite young, tall and lean and with thick dark hair. Y/N gave him a glance, made a mental note that Korean men were much better looking than she’d expected, the dismissed him as she tried to attract the attention of a taxi driver by standing on tiptoe to look over the roof of the Merc and wave.

“Miss L/N?

Y/N blinked, and slowly turned. The man from the Mercedes, in his immaculate dark suit, was looking at her expectantly. She thought of denying her identity but there was no way this man could be a buddy of her boss, who was not only well into his fifties but had the middle-aged belly to go with it. “Yes,” she acknowledged guardedly. He held out a hand. “I’m Park Jimin. Welcome to Korea.”

Slowly, with inner chagrin, she put her hand in his and had it briskly shaken. He was very businesslike, opening the passenger door for her, putting her case and camera equipment in the boot, ignoring the blare of an impatient taxi horn, getting in and driving away, all within a minute. “How did you know it was me?” she asked, looking at the lean planes of his profile with very mixed feelings. “I was given a description –and then there was all the photography stuff.” Fleetingly Y/N wondered how her boss had described her. Short, long black wavy hair, and sexy probably, knowing him. She had been given no description of the man beside her, and as she had no intention of using him hadn’t asked for one. But maybe it would have been helpful to know in advance that Park Jimin was both good looking and judging by his clothes, the Cartier watch on his wrist and the car, he is fairly affluent. His voice, too, was attractive, being smooth and with the unmistakable accent of a good school.

“I thought you’d given up on me after the hold up at the airport” she remarked. “What hold up?” he asked. Y/N gave a small gasp. “I was queuing in there for over three hours! I thought the officials had gone on a work to rule, or something.” Jimin gave her an amused glance. “No, it’s always like that. I didn’t bother to set out until long after your flight was due. Weren’t you warned?”

“No I wasn’t,” she said feelingly. To her annoyance, he laughed. “That sounds like Bang,” he commented naming her boss. “Is he a close friend of your?” she asked curiously. “No, but he knows my parents quite well. They have shared interest in horse racing.” So that explained the age difference, Y/N realized, guessing that Jimin must be in his mid-twenties, a whole generation younger than her boss. He hadn’t asked her where she wanted to be taken to, so she said “I take it were going somewhere particular?”

“To your hotel” says Jimin. “I haven’t chosen one yet,” she pointed out. “I know, so I’ve booked you into The Shilla Hotel. It’s a luxury five star hotel, modernized, and it’s handy for tours in Seoul.” Y/N frowned at Jimin “But I intended to stay at The Riverside Hotel,” Y/N said frostily, annoyed at his high-handedness. To her further annoyance he gave an amused, almost pitying look. “Believe me, you wouldn’t like it there. It’s where all the communist officials from out of town used to stay. And it’s still very basic.”

“Have you ever thought that perhaps I’d prefer to find out for myself?” she told him stiffly. Another amused glance came her way “Ah, you’re into this feminism thing, are you?” Jimin remarked with casual chauvinism. It was the kind of remark that immediately put her back. Y/N thought of telling him exactly what she thought of his attitude, but the shrugged inwardly and let it go; as she intended to ditch him just as soon as possible there seemed no point in setting him straight. But it made her decide at once that he was the sort of man she had absolutely no time for; one who was still trapped in the time-warp of gender stereotyping.

Lord, he probably even thought that the little woman’s place was still tied to the kitchen sink! Giving him a sideways prejudice glance from under her lashes, Y/N momentary thought that it was a pity he wasn’t her type, because she had to admit that his clear cut features under level eyebrows were more than attractive. And he had the kind of tall, broad-shouldered but slim figure that made clothes look good on him, even elegant. When that adjective came to her mind it caught her by surprise; it wasn’t one she often ascribed to a man but it fitted him exactly. However if there was one kind of man she couldn’t stand it was one who was narrow-minded in his attitude towards women. Y/N had come across it too many times in the past. At first she had fought it, but had come to realize that most of the time she was beating her head against a solid concrete wall.  The poor creatures had chauvinism ingrained into them from the cradle and nothing she could say or do would change it. So now she employed a more subtle method, and where necessary used the chauvinism for her own ends.

And looking at Park Jimin, she decided to do the same now. To use him until she was ready to ditch him and go off on her own secret quest. Smiling inwardly, she turned to look out the window at this new country she’s read so much about. The road were full of cars that belted out choking exhaust fumes. Her thoughts were cut off when he suddenly heard Jimin speak. “You must be extremely good at your job to be given such responsible assignment,” Jimin commented. Flattery and condescension all in one sentence. It would almost be a pleasure to take him down a peg or two. Y/N thought tartly, and id all she’d had to think about was her assignment she might have taken the time to do so, just for the hell of it. But right now she had other, far more important things on her mind. The streets widened into broad thoroughfares, the buildings became grander, and Y/N gave a gasp of pleasure as she caught a glimpse of the beautiful place.

#park jimin #park jimin x reader #chimchim #mochi #bts #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

[kpopimaginethat]

Nice House Chapter 2-Jinyoung (Got7) Fanfic

The day Got7 was set to arrive was a very confusing day for you. You had no idea how to prepare for it. The concept of southern hospitality your mother had ingrained in you since you could do the dishes didn’t seem like enough. You cleaned your house from top to bottom, wondered why you were doing it, and then cleaned it again.

You bought food, and then realized you didn’t even know what they liked. Would they even like Western food? Did they have a cook coming? The only place that delivered was a pizza place and even you couldn’t eat pizza every day. Did they expect you to cook for them day and night? You had text books to read front to back before the first day of classes. If you didn’t do that you would be behind, and you couldn’t fall behind before school even started.

So you asked your friends what boys even liked. You figured before they were Korean they were men, and men liked to eat. You bought everything under the sun. You bought some Asian dishes, but you didn’t want to seem racist or assume anything, so you ended up eating them before they got here.  Hosting is hard. Where was your “southern belle” mother when you needed her?

You woke up at 6 AM because you had a dream that you baked them cookies and they all threw up and had to cancel the whole music video because you food poisoned them. Just a dream; only a dream.

You took a shower and got ready, petrified that they would arrive when you were naked and unaware. It was the fastest shower of your life, and you decided a nice braid would do for the day.  You were presentable by 7AM.

You sat for five minutes before you got bored, so you dusted the living room, and read two chapters out of your pharmacology textbook until you had a sudden fear that every room didn’t have toilet paper. So you went and checked every bathroom…twice.

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until you felt a sudden shake of your shoulder and whispers in a language you vaguely recognized from the Rosetta Stone tapes you listened to in your car. Unfortunately, you didn’t quite pick up languages like you picked up biochem.

“Mark, you wake her up. She’s your friend’s cousin or whatever. Plus, you’re American. Don’t Americans automatically like other Americans? Isn’t that an Amendment or something?”

English. That was certainly English.

“Yeah, Jackson. That’s the exact wording in the Constitution. No, you dumbass. And she’s my friend’s college roommate. Her name is Y/N, and apparently she’s really stressed right now with law school or something because Carson said not to cause her any trouble.”

“She’s in medical school.”

“What?”

“These are science books. She’s in medical school.”

“Whatever, dude. Just let her be.”

You were too scared to open your eyes, because your mother taught you that eavesdropping was rude. You decided to count to sixty in your head before getting up and pretending to be surprised that they woke you.

“I know you’re awake.”

Your eyes shot open before closing them again tightly to pretend you didn’t hear them.

“I also saw you open your eyes.”

The mysterious voice spoke in broken English, but you still understood every humiliating word he said. You cleared your throat before slowly rising up from your impromptu bed on the living room couch.

“Sorry. I just didn’t want to seem like I was eavesdropping.”

“Easedrpping?”

“Uh, listening in on someone else’s conversation?”

“But this is your house? Weren’t we uhm…eavesdropping on you?”

You looked at the boy and managed to get out a “very good point” before your processed his face.

Oh, what a face.

It wasn’t just a cute face, no, it was special. You’ve seen many cute faces in your life, but none that looked like this. He looked like a prince. Not a prince you knew of, but if there ever was another prince in this world, he should look like this boy.

“I’m Jinyoung. Uhm, thank you for letting, uhm, thanks for letting us stay in your home. We really appreciate it.”

You wish you were a girl who could actually have her shit together in front of a cute boy, but you never possessed that talent. For such an intelligent girl you were never really good at showing off just how smart you were. Your words tended to mix up and you forgot what you were trying to say in the first place. You thought you were bad in college, but this boy was easily the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen.

“I’m sorry. I practiced with Mark, but I must not have gotten it right. Let me try again.”

“No!” you managed to get out. “Sorry, I was just startled to be woken up in such a way. Uhm, you’re welcome? No wait, anibnida? Yeah, anibnida. It’s nothing.”

The boy looked at you with such an amused smile that you thought you had something on your face. You did, but that wasn’t the only reason why he was smiling.

He was smiling because he liked the way your braid went to one side and showed your elegant neck. He was smiling because despite your well put together outfit, your blouse had become untucked from your well pressed pants. He was smiling because you butchered the pronunciation of thank you, but thought it was cute you were trying anyways. He was smiling because the books in front of you made it obvious you were smarter than the average person, but you had highlighter marks on your cheek. You were like some conundrum he never knew he needed to crack until right now, and he was suddenly happy he had two weeks to try to solve it.

#got7 #got7fanfic #got7fanfiction #got7imagine #got7scenario #igot7 #kpop #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #got7 jinyoung #got7 junior #got7 mark #got7 jackson #got7 youngjae #got7 jaebum #got7 bambam #got7 yugyeom

[eurolinguiste]

With new apps and online communities sprouting up everyday, there are an endless number of resources to choose from to learn almost any language. You can also connect more easily than ever with native speakers around the world. It’s often easier to feel overwhelmed by the different resources out there than it is to struggle to find them.

Even so, if you’re looking for a way (or an additional way) to make language learning a part of your day, here’s a list of 100+ ways to do just that.

They’re organized by the skills they help you build to help make choosing the right tools easy!

100+ Ways to Learn a New Language

There are essentially four different aspects of language learning – reading, comprehension, speaking, and writing. There are resources that cover all four of these skills, but there are also those that focus one one or two of the aforementioned. 

Getting Started

Use a to-do app to keep your language tasks organized and keep track of your “path goals”. // Path goals are the steps you take to ultimate achieve your “vision goals” (your big, long-term goals). You can read more about goal setting in this post.

Join #CleartheList to keep accountable with a fun group of learners. // We share our goals each month and encourage one another. 

Set specific times for various study tasks. // For example, use your commutes to listen to audio. Do a round of flashcards while you’re brushing your teeth or waiting for your lunch to heat up in the microwave. Use your lunch break for an online lesson or some course book study.

Commit to just five minutes per day. // It adds up quicker than you might think!

Download an app to your mobile device so that you always have something with you. // You can check out the recommendations below, but I personally love Duolingo, Memrise, and LingQ.

Attend a language webinar or live Q&A. // These are fantastic, free online classes that are offered by language bloggers. One of my favorite live Q&A vloggers is Benny Lewis of Fluent in 3 Months.

Take an online language course. // There are tons of great courses online both free and paid. Some of my favourites are Language Routine Mastery, Language Habit Toolkit, and of course, Say Goodbye to Shy, as well as my new free 7-day email course The Busy Language Learner.

A Few Quick & Easy Tasks 

Sometimes it’s just about getting your systems into place, preparing for your actual study and building some momentum. When this is the case, here are a few quick tasks you can complete when you only have a moment, but need or want to do something.

Create a “things to check out list” // That way you can focus on whatever you’re using now, but don’t forget about the other resources that look interesting to you when you decide you’re ready for them.

Open your coursebook to the next lesson // And if you’re feeling ambitious, read the first page. There’s a good chance you won’t stop there.

Look up a word you’ve been wanting to know // This can be a word in your native language that you want to translate into your target language, or a word you heard/read in your target language that you want to look up in your native language. 

Make a list of words to look up later // Same rules apply as above.

Create an account on a language learning platform you’ve been meaning to use. // It can be iTalki, HelloTalk, LingQ, Lang-8, the Innovative Languages courses, Lingoda, Baselang, Rhinospike, you name it…

Send a message to a potential language exchange partner

Distill a page of an old language notebook // This is where you go through an old notebook and copy the words you still don’t know (but find useful) into your new notebook.

Find an article that explains something you’re currently struggling with in your target language. // For me, this was this post on the in subjunctive Spanish.

Read an article from a language blogger on how to learn languages. // Some suggestions are: Fluent in 3 Months, I Will Teach You a Language, Lindsay Does Languages, Fluent Language, Actual Fluency, French Lover, etc. And of course, the blog you’re already reading, Eurolinguiste.

Join a Facebook group // There are tons of lovely Facebook groups that are either language specific or just general groups of fellow language learners.

Do Some Math // Numbers can be tricky in a foreign language. They’re not easy to pull up or understand right away and we sometimes end up doing more translating and mental counting than needed. It can really slow you down. Practice some basic maths in your target language to get more comfortable with numbers.

Sign up for a language mailing list to get tips sent right to your inbox // This can be language specific or not.

Grab one of my 100+ Conversational Words & Phrases Worksheets // So far I have them for Korean, Chinese, French, Italian, and Croatian.

Learn super helpful phrases in your target language // Like: “How do you say ___ in ___ language?” or “Can you repeat that?” or “Can you say that differently?” or “What is ___ in English?” or “Please say it again slowly”.

A Little Bit of Everything

Duolingo // This is a fun and popular language learning app that is available for a variety of languages. You can complete a lesson in just a few minutes, whether at home or on the go.

Assimil // Assimil is my favourite course book series. They have a much wider selection of material available for French speakers, but what they have for English speakers is pretty great as well (if more limited).

Attend a Gathering or Conference // Even if you are not a polyglot (or don’t consider yourself one), I’ve heard good things about each of the language events around the globe. I will actually be a speaker at the upcoming Montréal Lang Fest and it would be incredible to see you there!

Start a Challenge // Like Lindsay Does Languages’ IGLC. Or Benny Lewis’s Speak in a Week.

Visit a Museum or Monument // Whenever M and I travel, I try to pick up the brochures in my target languages and opt for the tours offered in other languages (if available). On our most recent trip to the Getty Museum I had fun reading about the history of the museum in every language but English.

Watch Language Lessons on Youtube // There are a ton of great educational channels available on Youtube. Some of my favorites for Mandarin include Yoyo Chinese and Chinese with Mike. Just do a bit of searching to find videos in your language!

Use a Language Program // There are both free and paid programs to help you with your language learning including: Busuu, Rosetta Stone, Babbel, Rocket Languages et al.

Teach Someone Else // One of the best ways to ingrain a skill (or just better understand it) is through the act of teaching someone else. I began to understand German grammar better when I had to explain it to my father and my tones improved as I started to teach M words in Mandarin.

Start Using FluentU // I was contacted by FluentU a while back to test out their platform and I was impressed. It is a tool I really wish I used more. They also have an incredible blog for each of the languages they feature.

Play Games // If you’re at a beginning level, card games are a great place to start as are word games. Board games can be fun (if you have friends to play with), as can video games (whether online community based or just foreign language versions of games). I play my favorite Nintendo games in Mandarin and I know other language learners who play online games like WOW in their target languages.

Take an In-Person Class // But don’t allow yourself to become one of those students who does the bare minimum to succeed. Take an active interest in learning the language and use the class as a launching point. 

Bust Out Your Phrasebook // And learn phrases rather than individual vocab words. My personal favorite phrasebooks are this one from Tuttle, this one from Assimil and the Lonely Planet Series.

For Advanced Learners: Take a Free Online Language-Specific Class in Your Target Language // Instead of taking a class on your language, take a class in your language. MIT and Coursera offer several courses in other languages for free online.

Try out Glossika // This is another course that offers elements of reading and listening.

Use Forvo to hear how things sound // This is a great online dictionary for tons of languages with audio.

Submit something to Rhinospike // And get it recorded by a native speaker so you can hear how it sounds. Be sure to reciprocate for someone else!

Travel to the Country // Not for everyone – it can be pretty expensive. But it is an option if you have the means.

Reading & Writing

Graded Readers // McGraw-Hill puts out a great series of easy readers. For those of you unfamiliar with the term “graded reader”, read this.

Native Language Books // What better way to improve your French reading comprehension than by reading classic French texts like Le Petit Prince or L’Etranger? The same can be said for any great literature in any language.

Use LingQ // LingQ is honestly my favourite app for language learning right now because it combines one of my favorite things (reading) with vocabulary study. You can use the content they already have available or you can important your own reading material.

If your language has a different writing system, learn it.

Translations of Your Favorite Books // Like Game of Thrones or Harry Potter? Why don’t you read it in your target language rather than in your native language? If that’s too hard, there are tons of children’s books available to choose from! Dr. Seuss and even some Disney stories are available in a wide selection of languages.

Memrise // Memrise is an incredible online resource and my favourite way to learn new vocabulary.

Flashcards // You can either make your own or use pre-made cards like those made by Flashsticks. Or you can go with digital Flashcards like Antosch & Lin or Anki.

Label Objects in Your House // Make up sticky notes (or use Flashsticks) to label objects in your house to help you build up your day-to-day vocabulary. If you don’t want to overwhelm your loved ones, do it one room at a time.

Textbooks // I particularly like the material that Tuttle puts out. Assimil is another of my favorites.

Keep a Language Journal // It’s a great way to hang on to all the awesome things you’ve learned, review them, and look back at where you were at a few months back.

Free write in your target language // Just because or to submit for corrections.

Translation from Your Target Language // Bust out a target language document and your dictionary and get to work with this old school way to learn a language. In addition to translating the document, I like to keep a second notebook on hand to make notes on the information that is new to me and that I’d like to retain.

Translation into Your Target Language // This is a bit harder than translating from your target language into your native language. So if you want to up your translation skills, this is definitely a good activity.

Change the Language Settings on Your Devices // You can set the language of your phone or computer in your target language, and there are tons of other ways to get inventive with this option. Heck, even my car is set in one of the languages I’m learning (I changed the radio/control panel language in the settings) as is my gaming system.

Change the Language Settings on Your Social Media Accounts // This sometimes needs to be done separately from the device itself.

Check Out the Ethnic Foods Section of Your Local Grocery Store // Learn the ingredients of the foods you eat! 

The Instructions and Ingredients on the Backs of Products You Buy // I’ve done this forever with my shampoo bottles. Now that I’m learning Mandarin, I’ve even started doing it with the tags on my clothes and the instructions for everything I buy. Since I do most of my shopping at the local Chinese market, I end up with tons of material to learn from.

Go to the Library // No need to spend money you might be able to save by checking out the language section at your local library.

Write a script // Scripts are great exercises because they really offer you the chance to focus in on a specific subject  and learn the vocabulary and grammar you need just for that topic.

Newspapers and/or Magazines // Whenever I travel, I try to pickup newspapers in my target language. Even if I don’t use them then, I can save them for when I have time.

Make Friends with Your Dictionary // Open up to a random page and learn a new word. Make a list of words you’d like to know, look them up, and create a new flashcard set or vocab list like this. I also like Language Surfer‘s advice on this technique.

Use Readlang // I only just discovered this tool and I’m going to have to add it to my arsenal of study tools.

Use Lang-8 or iTalki‘s Journal Tool to Write // These sites offer your the opportunity to write in your target language and have it corrected by a native speaker. It doesn’t cost anything, but be kind and reciprocate. Correct another language learner in your native language too.

Find a Website Available in Multiple Languages // Open your target language and your native language in two different windows and do a comparison. Take notes. Wikipedia is a great starting point.

Install your Language’s Keyboard on your Phone or Computer // I use my Chinese keyboard to type emojis – it forces me to remember the words for different moods and objects.

Read a Comic // Who says you need to read text-only books anyway?

Focus on Grammar // If you grammar needs some brushing up, spend some time reviewing or learning. Most older language learning texts are great for this as are the Teach Yourself series.

Participate in the Language Reading Challenge!

Grab a guide // My favorites are the Why X is Easy series for French, German, Italian, Spanish, English, and Chinese. Or the Master Japanese and Master Chinese books.

Speaking & Comprehension

Pimsleur // Try a free lesson.

Skype Lessons // If you’re not sure where to find a tutor, iTalki is my favourite platform for connecting with excellent teachers. I’ve also enjoyed Baselang (for Spanish) and Lingoda (for Spanish, German, and French).

Language Exchanges with Native Speakers

Language Exchanges with Others Learning the Same Language // Don’t just rely on native speakers to help you practice your target language. Partner up with others who are learning the same language as you! Lindsay and I did this for Korean and it was a great way to keep accountable.

Converse with Friends

Read Aloud // You know those books I mentioned above? Use those to work on both your reading comprehension and speaking abilities by reading aloud.

Podcasts // There are so many incredible and FREE podcasts available in a wide range of languages. The Innovative language series like RussianPod101, SpanishPod101, JapanesePod101, ChineseClass101, etc. 

Listen to the radio // If you’re ready for it, you can dive into native language radio programs, or you can try out something like News in Slow French/Spanish or Slow Chinese.

Conversations with Yourself // It can be intimidating trying to converse with a native speaker for the first time, so why not get some practice in on your own first?

Audiobooks // This is great for those of you that spend a good amount of time in the car. Why listen to “The Three Musketeers” when you can enjoy “Les Trois Mousquetaires”? The great thing about most players too is that you can slow them down!

Find a Restaurant in Your Area // Get some practice in ordering and conversing in your target language.

Record Yourself Speaking // This is a learning technique that I’ve used often in music and that can certainly carry over into language. One of the best ways to improve your pronunciation and speaking abilities are to record yourself and listen back. You’ll definitely hear mistakes you didn’t even know you were making!

Go to a Cultural Event in Your Area // About a year ago I went to an Italian heritage festival hosted by a neighboring city with my parents. It was a great opportunity for me to brush up on my Italian, enjoy delicious food, make new friends, and hear a variety of Italian music (everything from opera to pop).

Start a Vlog // Record yourself speaking in your target language and share it on Instagram (like I do) or on Youtube.

Watch Commercials on Youtube // They are short and some even have captions. They’re a great way to get bite-size language exposure.

Watch a Movies or TV Show with Subtitles // If you’re looking for something a little more involved try graduating up to television shows or movies.

Watch a Movie or TV Show without Subtitles // Even if you don’t understand everything, this can be a great way to push your comprehension or get a better feel for what level you’re at.

Watch an Overdubbed Version of Your Favorite Movie // Try watching it with and without subtitles. You already know the plot and can probably remember a good chunk of the dialog.

Watch a movie or tv show that is more than one language // This is a little less intense than watching an entire series or movie in a foreign language. One of my favourites for Russian is The Americans. You can really have fun with this and even use it to learn a conlang like Dothraki by watching Game of Thrones. Hey, it’s all in the name of learning a language!

Listen to Music in Your Target Language // Spotify has a great collection of music to choose from although some artists have blocked certain countries. I also use Kougu which is the Chinese equivalent of Pandora (and oddly enough, they have a French language channel). I have also started playlists for the languages I’m learning that you can checkout on my YouTube channel.

Work on Pronunciation // Focus on properly pronouncing your language’s alphabet or combinations of sounds (for example tones in Mandarin). Really break it down so that you can work on just creating the right sounds. This is especially crucial if the language you are learning has sounds that don’t exist in your native language.

Record yourself // You can record  one of your lessons or exchanges, or even your monologue. Be sure to listen back!

Learn different interjections an onomatopoetic expressions. // These are fun ways to sound more “native”.

Focus on learning conversation connectors. // These are great tools to give yourself the chance to think and segue into new topics. Anthony Lauder has a fantastic list for Czech. You can use it as a basis to translate into your target language.

Bonus

I like to think that learning about the cultures associated with the languages you’re learning as a bonus to developing your ability and attachment to what you’re studying. Consider the following:

Read a Book About the History of Your Language // Or about the group of languages to which yours belongs (i.e. Slavic languages rather than Croatian).

Read a Book About the History of One of the Countries Where Your Language is Spoken // It can be a general history, one on a specific time period or specific movement. Whatever interests you.

Read a Book About the Experience Someone Had Moving to or Traveling Through a Country Where Your Target Language is Spoken // This is a great way to get an outside perspective.

Learn to Cook a Local Dish // Double bonus if you can cook it using the recipe in your target language rather than a translated recipe!

Take a Look at a Map and Learn About the Major Cities // Use a map to pinpoint the larger cities and look them up. Don’t cheat and Google “large cities in XYZ country.” Get familiar with your country’s geography and where the major cities are located.

Learn About Some of the Holidays Unique to the Country Where Your Language is Spoken // Double bonus if you can find a celebration in your area and attend!

Don’t go looking for something if you don’t have a problem. // I don’t know what it is about language learning that leads to us hoarding resources, but there is definitely something. Perhaps it’s in thinking that we’ll be more thorough or that a new resource will solve a problem for us, or who knows. I’ve recently adapted a more minimalist approach to language learning, so I only bring a new resource in when I have a problem my current resources don’t solve.

Learn some of the common hand gestures or body language used by those who speak your target language. // There are some infographics like this, but watching movies or tv shows is another great way to do this.

Take a course that teaches you how to be a better learner overall // Like the Learning How to Learn course on Coursera or Scott Young’s Rapid Learner course.

I’m tackling some of the items on this list of 100+ ways to learn a language from @eurolinguistesk… Click To Tweet

I hope to continue building out this list, so if you think there are any techniques I’ve missed, please feel free to share in the comments. I look forward to hearing from you!

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